I'm four now, Rickon said. He was peeking through the lens tube at the gargoyles on the First Keep. The direwolves sat on opposite sides of the large round room, licking their wounds and gnawing on bones.
“我已经四岁了。”瑞肯说。他正透过镜管，眺望首堡上的石像鬼。两只冰原狼各据偌大的圆形房间的一端，舔着伤口，啃食骨头。
...too young, and, ooh, seven hells, that burns, no, don't stop, more. Too young, as I say, but you, Bran, you're old enough to know that dreams are only dreams.
“——年纪还小，所以——哎哟，七层地狱，还真痛。不，别停下，多抹点。正如我刚才所说，他年纪还小，但布兰你应该知道：梦是没有任何意义的。”
Some are, some aren't. Osha poured pale red firemilk into a long gash. Luwin gasped. "The children of the forest could tell you a thing or two about dreaming."
“有些有，有些没有。”欧莎将淡红色的火奶倒在长长的伤口上，鲁温吸了口气。“森林之子能告诉你关于梦的知识。”
Tears were streaming down the maester's face, yet he shook his head doggedly. "The children... live only in dreams. Now. Dead and gone. Enough, that's enough. Now the bandages. Pads and then wrap, and make it tight, I'll be bleeding."
老师傅疼得眼泪都流了下来，但他仍旧固执地摇摇头。“森林之子……本身就只存在于梦中。他们早已灭亡、消失。够了，这样就够了，现在把绷带拿来。先垫棉花，再裹绷带，绑紧一点，我大概还会流不少血。”
Old Nan says the children knew the songs of the trees, that they could fly like birds and swim like fish and talk to the animals, Bran said. "She says that they made music so beautiful that it made you cry like a little baby just to hear it."
“老奶妈说森林之子懂得树木的歌谣，会说动物的语言。他们能像鸟一样飞翔，像鱼一般游泳。”布兰说，“她说他们的音乐很美，光是听到就会让你像婴儿一样哭泣。”
And all this they did with magic, Maester Luwin said, distracted. "I wish they were here now. A spell would heal my arm less painfully, and they could talk to Shaggydog and tell him not to bite."
“他们是靠魔法才办到的，”鲁温师傅有些心不在焉地说，“我真希望他们还在。如果有魔法，我的手就不用痛得这么厉害，他们也可以跟毛毛狗沟通，叫它别乱咬人。”
