“When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.”

She felt like a child once more, only thirteen and all alone, not ready for what was about to happen to her. They rode out together as the stars came out, leaving the khalasar and the grass palaces behind. Khal Drogo spoke no word to her, but drove his stallion at a hard trot through the gathering dusk. The tiny silver bells in his long braid rang softly as he rode. “I am the blood of the dragon,” she whispered aloud as she followed, trying to keep her courage up. “I am the blood of the dragon. I am the blood of the dragon.” The dragon was never afraid.

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Sunny forest.

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The World of Interiors, June 1993. Photo -  Richard Davies

Appalachian Trail by Joshua Farrell

Bluebells Beside The Path, by Andrew Kearton.

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Alex Gruber

Cyclamen hederifolium at Esseborne Manor hotel, Hampshire, UK.

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Norangsdalen valley, Norway (by Peter Bailey)