A new day has dawned. As I carry on with my morning grazing I reflect on all that has happened in the Kingdom. The Stark children are all scattered about the countryside. Ned Stark is dead, beheaded.
I want to seek revenge for my Master's death against that wicked vermin, Joffrey Lannister. But how can I, a simple bearer of burdens, exact a fitting punishment on that heinous Lannister wretch? I will never call him, "King". I spit that out with the grass I reject for my morning's breakfast. Joffrey is no King to me.
I need a mighty and willing herd of cattle to back me up. I would even consider including some noble steers, if they keep their distance. Comely cows wouldn't hurt - we all need a little romance now and then to spice up our existence. I miss the children, particularly Arya Stark. She was always so kind to me and so was Brandon. Brandon stays with the human, Hodor. I am the bovine, hodor. I have a bigger vocabulary than the human one.
I am homesick and I moo my misery to the wind. No one really cares anymore, but the Gods will go with me. I know they will.
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