[The wimpering cower is wonderful, though Ramsay's expression doesn't reveal it. His gaze is narrow and unflinching. Almost carelessly he pulls the blade along Reek's cheek, scraping the skin without cutting- until he nicks the gaunt skin that's stretched thin over Reek's chin.

At the sight of red on his blade, Ramsay sighs a put-upon sigh and the murderous gaze vanishes.] I can see I've got my work cut out for me. Yes, Reek. You spoke too rashly. We'll work on your manners after you've got some suitable clothes.

[Releasing him, he pats Reek's cheek condescendingly. Isn't he just the best? Of course he is.]