Escape from the Wildling Camp

"Yes. I know. Let's go", you just woke up. You was still stunned, but you knew you had to do something. This was the best chance to escape so far.

Brent cut the ties holding the wooden bars together, and carefully placed them on the ground.

You approached the opening, using your cunning and skill to avoid making noise. Your labored breathing quickens as the adrenaline of escape courses through your bodies.

Rising to your feet, you position yourself slightly behind Brent and carefully begin to push him towards the opening. Your firm hand presses against his back as he struggles to squeeze through the small space.

Heads down, you crawl to the edges of the camp. It even seemed like Brent had already planned everything, as you were in a corner of the camp that was apparently a security blind spot, considering that no guard looked in that direction.

You were crouched down, following a small stream.

The camp was now just an orange light against the night beyond the snowy hills. No commotion occurred, so, it seemed, they had not yet noticed the escape of the two crows.

“We really ran away,” you say. You could still hear your heartbeat.

"Yes. They were going to kill us, or make us deserters."

"We'd die either way."

"Yeah".

"We need to get back to the Wall. Report what happened".

"I know, but first... we need to find a route. Everything is so... the same here. Damn, everywhere is a big fucking mountain of ice. So fucking pale."

“We came from there,” you point to a direction in the middle of the night. You're not even sure.

"Yeah, I see".