Something large and warm moved next to her. Sansa craned her neck and saw Ghost, with his ears drooping low and tail hanging down in defeat. She hadn't noticed his gigantic size before, her thoughts were with her brother, and the direwolf was deceptively sprawled on the floor, but Ghost had gotten unbelievably big. He was easily as tall as her, and Sansa wasn't short by any means. It was a bit ironic that all the direwolves of her trueborn siblings were dead, and only her half-brother had managed to keep his alive. Ghost gazed at her face and gave her a sad, silent whine. Sansa's limbs felt shaky, as if they would give out any moment, and leaned onto her brother's direwolf.