Dorian was a good man, a good friend. Jon knew he only meant well, hoping to busy Jon with drink and food and women and in so doing take his mind of his hurt. Yet in this way Jon and Dorian were quite different. Jon wasn't the man to drink his sorrows away, or lose himself in women. Jon had never been that man. When trouble found Jon Stark he sought solitude and the quite of a forest clearing. He enjoyed a good hunt, the company of Ghost and not many other people. Clara sometimes could reach him, when he pulled away, Sansa could as well, but no one was as skilled at reaching Jon Stark when he turned inward like his father. Most likely because in this way Eddard Stark was like none of his children more. Eddard was called the Quiet Wolf in his youth, some even thought him a mute. Not until his older brother Brandons death did he start speaking up for himself and become the king every grew to know.
Dorian called out to one of the party goes, asking about a bear. Jon turned and lost himself for a moment. A woman off in the distance with a purple mask that looked as if it were made of butterfly wings. Her dress was the deepest blue, reminding Jon of mountain ice. Yet her skin was warm and brown, off setting the frigid color of her clothes. Past her mask Jon could see a head of curls the color of chestnuts. She spoked and Jon wondered where her accent was from, he'd never heard an accent quite like it. He wasn't sure why but he found himself unable to break his gaze. It wasn't until another woman rushed over and pulled her away did he finally lose sight of her. As she left she turned back once, their eyes meeting, hers behind a mask and his unobscured.
Dorian led Jon back inside where the festivities were in full swing, his mind drifting back to the woman in the mask. As Dorian led him through the corwd he figured he would at least attempt to have a good time, even if it was just for Dorians sake.
"So, you're really going to fight a bear? Wonder who I should put money on, you or the bear?"