The Wall devil gonna follow me e'er I go

The wind, a biting reminder of his Northern heritage that he would never return to, whipped at the ironborn's rugged monochrome pelage as he stood, rooted and quietly observant. He simply watched the she-wolf as she pushed on despite her struggles and, when at last she gathered herself onto the peak not far from where Rökkvi stood, he tilted his muzzle toward her to study her in silence.

Impressive - the first thought that sprung to mind, until the stranger turned her head to regard him. Champagne eyes were drawn at once to the damp streaks that marred each of her cheeks, to the glisten of her honey gaze that suggested she'd been crying recently. Rökkvi blinked, his initial opinion of her quick to dwindle.

These Southern creatures were so emotional. 

"My pack claims the watch," he said in response to her expectation of the wall being vacant, and canted raven ear backward in the direction of the mountain edge where his family made their home. "What brings you this way?"