Sunday Night, The Preserve

Samuel was having a blast. The preserve was full of tasty tasty snacks game, and even if he kept having to remember that the deer were Off Limits, there were still plenty of rabbits. His wolf was happy to run and chase and catch, and he was happy to let it. This was much better than standing in front of Congress in a suit. He understood the need for his father to keep a low profile, but privately he suspected Bran just hated politics as much as the rest of them.

((As last month, if anyone really wants to run across the giant white wolf in the woods at night, they're welcome to it. He won't bite; he'll just think they're lacking good sense.))