Robb, too, was cold. His condition was much like hers had been when she'd first arrived and, like her, he was generally pretty much dead except for the part where he wasn't. His muzzle was warmed by his fur, but his hands on hers were cool and pale.

He wasn't bothered by her touch, though. He was too busy focusing on her words, on the list of names. Sansa! Jon! So it wasn't just Arya, here. More family. And more, still, might come. Maybe even Jeyne... well, in his current state, perhaps not.

Still, his lady mother was here, and three of his siblings, and perhaps even more. The Robb part of him couldn't help but hope, grimly, that here they would outnumber the Lannisters and any other enemy that might have followed. He squeezed his mother's hand again and whuffed softly, nuzzling into her.