Anything I can do to improve, please let me know! Screening is on, anon on, IP logging off. You can also reach me by PM or on AIM at Nuklear Firefly if you would prefer.
[Arya arrived in town near sundown, barefoot but seemingly not bothered at all by it, flanked by her massive direwolf. First things were first: find something to cover the weak point of her wings, then find Needle. All else could follow after that.
She can be spotted at the clothing shop, digging through to find something warm that will block her wings from being visible, mostly just looking like some beggar girl with her hair all uneven and her elbows all scuffed up. Once she's bundled herself up in something thick and wooly, it's off to the blacksmith's to dig through and find Needle. And finally, properly armed and clothed, she heads to the grocery to snatch up something for Nymeria to eat... and maybe even a chunk of bread for herself.
Then, she figures, she should probably try to see if those people she was staying with before were still around...]
[Early morning finds Arya out at the barracks, viciously attacking straw dummies with Needle. With each strike, she goes through her list aloud: Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Ser Gregor. Dunsen and Raff the Sweetling. Queen Cersei. The Malnosso, the Malnosso, the Malnosso. By mid-morning, she's tired and sweating and no less hollow. Not wanting to talk to much of anyone, she skips going back to House 2 to change and just cuts through the edge of town, over a bridge, and back out in the general direction of the Battle Dome, only straight into the trees instead. And she keeps on going, Nymeria padding along silently beside her.
It's mid-afternoon when she stumbles upon it. Deep in the woods, with nothing but the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds around. And she stands there a while, just soaking in the familiarity, before eventually going to nestle down among the roots with Nymeria.
Much later, just as the sun is going down, she opens the journal she's been ignoring all day and carefully follows the steps she remembers to sending a filtered message... not that she's mastered this art yet.]
[7% Filtered to Natasha Romanoff, Logan, Luke Skywalker, and Konan]
I lied to you all before. About my name, that is. It isn't Cat. [And here, with the bone-white bark of a weirwood tree at her back, Needle on her hip, and a keen-eyed direwolf at her side, she knows she can't deny being a child of the North any longer. After all, you can't lie in front of a weirwood. Fierce pride shines in her grey eyes.] I'm Arya, of House Stark.
I'd say I'm sorry for lying, but I'm not. It wasn't a safe name back home. But all of you should know the truth.
[/filter]
[She pauses for a moment, changes the filter back off, and then decides to address the rest of the town. The video clicks on with a good view of the white trunk at Arya's back, stretching up into a blood-red canopy of leaves. The tree definitely has a striking look to it. Arya seems pleased.]
Back home, these trees are sacred to the old gods of the North. Years and years ago, the Children of the Forest carved faces into them so the old gods could watch over the people and the woods.
In the north, every great castle has a godswood with a weirwood heart tree in the center. All of them have different faces. [Beat.] This one doesn't have a face, but I guess that makes sense without any of the Children being here.
Do we have other trees like this anywhere else in Luceti? I only found the one. Or does anyone have something like this back home?
[[ooc: Anyone who wants to hack the filtered, feel free!]]
[It may have been years since they last saw each other, but Arya and her direwolf are out adventuring around the town, neither one seeming to care all that much about the rain. Nymeria isn’t exactly the best trained creature in the universe, though, so she keeps trotting off ahead of Arya and leaving the girl to catch up. And she’s really not listening to commands all that well, either; not that she ever did, but years of growing rusty with commands like “to me” and “sit” doesn’t do much for going around town. It doesn’t seem to be dampening either one’s spirits, though.
Arya makes sure to make a stop at the grocery store, though, to get her wolf something to eat. Nymeria follows her in. Hopefully no one will be upset at a wolf shaking herself dry all over the meat aisle. Or be too upset when Arya all but drags said wolf outside again to tear into the biggest roast she could find... right on the doorstep of the store. Gigantic wolves with bloody muzzles aren’t anything to worry about, right.
When Nymeria is satiated, and the sun is starting to go down and turn the rain unpleasantly cold, Arya and her wolf head back to House 2... where another scuffle breaks out, because the wolf does not want to go in, and Arya is trying to push her through the door. Which isn’t working too well. Oops.]
[[ooc: Anyone is free to end up meeting Nymeria before/instead of Arya during the morning; she’s a five-foot-tall direwolf, soaked and hungry and a known maneater. Have fun~]]
[With so many things glaringly wrong with this place, she figures it's time to try scoping it out. The girl very cautiously approaches the village, keeping to the trees for cover until she's sure there aren't any Lannister banners flying anywhere. When there aren't any, it isn't much consolation; the buildings are huge, and the architecture isn't anything she's ever seen before. This place may not be full of lions, but it's not exactly a safe zone, either. She's not even sure what it is.
Eventually, she finds her way into town, going around to see what exactly there is to see here. She doubts she'll spot any familiar faces, but she still makes her way through all the shops in the main square, trying to get some kind of sense of what kind of town this is. The smith shop is familiar, the fashions in the clothing shop completely outlandish, the foods in the indoor marketplace entirely alien.
And she is so, so very lost. As she makes her way through town, the old phrase starts repeating in the back of her mind: Fear cuts deeper than swords. She can do this. She has to do this.
Towards nightfall, after much exploration and poking around, the girl makes her way back to the stables she passed by at some point. The horses are horses. That much is familiar, at least. This much she can understand completely. And the familiar, earthy, horsey smells are something of a comfort when you're trying to wrap your head around what in the world happened to bring you to a place such as this.]