Ramsay Bolton, the Lord of the Dreadfort, woke up to a strange sound. His usually fierce hounds were making unusual whining noises.

To his shock, his fierce hounds had turned into tiny, wrinkled pugs. 'What sorcery is this?' he wondered aloud, looking at the tiny creatures.

Ramsay decided to seek help. He marched down to the courtyard, the little pugs trailing behind him, their tiny barks echoing in the eerie silence.

He sought the counsel of the Maester. 'My hounds, they've turned into pugs.' Ramsay explained the situation, his tone a mix of disbelief and annoyance.

The Maester pondered, 'It seems like a transformation spell. We need to find the cause and reverse it.'

'Then let's find it.' Ramsay's impatience was growing. He missed his hounds, their ferocity, their loyalty.

Ramsay and the Maester ventured into the woods, following the trail of a mysterious woman seen near the kennels before the transformation.

They found the woman, her eyes glowed ominously. 'You transformed my hounds. Reverse it.' Ramsay demanded, his eyes burning with rage.

'Only if you promise to treat them better.' The woman’s voice was cold. Ramsay, taken aback, nodded reluctantly.

'Very well.' With a wave of her hand, she muttered a spell. 'Your hounds will be themselves by dawn.' She vanished, leaving Ramsay puzzled but hopeful.

As dawn broke, Ramsay woke up to the familiar sounds of his hounds. He rushed to find them back to their old selves, their transformation reversed.

Relief washed over him. He looked at his hounds, their eyes meeting his. A promise made, a lesson learned. Perhaps, they deserved better.