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Jafer's right wrist ended in the ruin of torn flesh and splintered bone left by Ghost's jaws. His right hand was floating in a jar of vinegar back in Maester Aemon's tower. His left hand, still at the end of his arm, was as black as his cloak.
杰佛的右臂被白灵齐腕咬断，末端只剩一团血肉模糊。他的右手掌此刻正在伊蒙师傅的塔里，悬浮于醋罐之中。至于他的左掌，虽然还好端端地接在臂膀上，却和他的斗篷一般黑。
Gods have mercy, the Old Bear muttered. He swung down from his garron, handing his reins to Jon. The morning was unnaturally warm; beads of sweat dotted the Lord Commander's broad forehead like dew on a melon. His horse was nervous, rolling her eyes, backing away from the dead men as far as her lead would allow. Jon led her off a few paces, fighting to keep her from bolting. The horses did not like the feel of this place. For that matter, neither did Jon.
“诸神慈悲。”熊老喃喃道。他翻身从犁马背上跳下，把缰绳交给琼恩。这是个异常暖和的清晨，守夜人司令宽阔的额间遍布汗珠，犹如甜瓜表面的露水。他的坐骑十分局促，一边翻着白眼，一边扯着缰绳，想从死人身边退开。琼恩牵它走开几步，努力不让它挣脱奔走。马儿不喜欢此地的感觉，话说回来，琼恩自己也不喜欢。
The dogs liked it least of all. Ghost had led the party here; the pack of hounds had been useless. When Bass the kennelmaster had tried to get them to take the scent from the severed hand, they had gone wild, yowling and barking, fighting to get away. Even now they were snarling and whimpering by turns, pulling at their leashes while Chett cursed them for curs.
狗们更是深恶痛绝。带领队伍到这儿的是白灵，整群猎犬根本毫无用处。之前驯兽长贝斯试着拿断手给它们闻，好让它们记住气味，结果狗群整个发狂，又吠又叫，拼死命要逃开。即便到现在，它们也依然时而咆哮时而哀嚎，用力拉扯狗链，齐特为此咒骂不已。
It is only a wood, Jon told himself, and they're only dead men. He had seen dead men before...
这不过是座森林，狗儿闻到的只是尸臭罢了，琼恩这么告诉自己。他刚见过死人……
Last night he had dreamt the Winterfell dream again.
就在昨夜，他又作了那个临冬城的梦。
