"There were crows circling the seven towers and great dome of Baelor’s Sept even now, Jaime suspected, their black wings beating against the night air as they searched for a way inside. *Every crow in the Seven Kingdoms should pay homage to you, Father. From Castamere to the Blackwater, you fed them well*. That notion pleased Lord Tywin; his smile widened further. _Bloody hell, he’s grinning like a bridegroom at his bedding_. That was so grotesque it made Jaime laugh aloud." A Feast for Crows indeed, but Tywin's feast should be the least of our worries, now he's gone. The real monsters have come to feast with the crows on bleeding Westeros.

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