Tomorrow they would start marching to Winterfell. Sansa was now dining with Jon, Ser Davos, Brienne, the wildling chieftains that joined their cause, and a dour night's watchman named Dolorous Edd in what they called the Shield Hall. The small feast was a bit rowdy and everyone was devouring the food vigorously. It was not a bad feeling, and she felt the noisy hall relaxing, unlike the contest of veiled insults and hidden barbs that most dinners were in the south.