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Sansa stood infront of the three graves that were before her, her long grey dress swaying peacefully in the cold winter wind. In her delicate hand holds a bunch of flowers, they are frail against the cold of the North and are starting to wilt and die. She looks to the nearest grave, it engraves, "Robb Stark, The Young Wolf" she drops the flowers onto his grave and walks away slowly, promising herself never to return to the place. For she is the last of the Starks.
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