He got out of bed, walked to the alcove, opened his shutter, and looked outside. In the east, the first rays of the morning sun just peeked over the snowy horizon, slowly colouring the sky in fiery orange. He had a whole day to spend before the so-called Grand Northern Council began. It had nothing to do with the Grand Council of the Seven Kingdoms, but that's what people had called it after he officially called for the meeting yesterday, after the Skagosi Lords arrived and paid homage to him. It had been decades since the last time every single Stark bannerman, big or small, was here in Winterfell at the same time. Jon had men hunting in the wolfswood to compensate for the strain on the larders.