1st Winter [Action]

[aryaunderfoot]

[Early this morning, somewhere deep in the woods, there is a wolf howling.

It's a long, mournful howl, and the wolf doesn't seem to want to stop. Occasionally, she'll pause for breath, and then throw her head back again after a moment's rest. This place isn't right. Her cousins aren't here, the smaller ones of her pack. The air is too warm, too full of the smells of spring. And the more she searches, the more she howls, trying to get some sort of answer out of these unfamiliar trees.

Around mid-morning, the crumpled form of a small girl can be found on the path leading from the village to the Battle Dome. She's not hurt, just very much asleep (and scrunching up her face with each wolf howl) and very much covered in grime (and smelling faintly of fish cart). And there's also the fact that she's in a New Feather dress. As the howling reaches a higher pitch, she awakes with a start, freezes, and tries to figure out what this place is. There's a chill in the air, yes, but it isn't winter building up to full strength. It can't be the Summer Islands, and it most definitely isn't Braavos. This place...

...is less concerning than the fact that there is a journal right next to her with "Arya Stark" printed right on it. She gives it an incredulous look for a moment before deciding that this must be a test of some kind. The kindly man must be behind it. With a shake of the head, the girl stands, pushes the journal with a foot until it's tucked out of sight under a nearby bush, and then turns back to the task at hand.

And tries to ignore the mournful howling that is practically tugging her in its direction. That's not something she needs to worry about. That was Arya Stark. Not her. She's nobody.]

[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.]

[[ooc: Feel free to run into her at any point!]]

Comments

[aryaunderfoot]

[Yoren never spoke prettily either, but he was smarter than he let on. Arya almost looks offended.] Then they're all stupid. Soldiers don't live to be old unless they're clever.

[Everyone should know that.]

[greenjacketed]

...You're not calling me old, are you?

[ his mouth turns into a smile. he might be teasing once again. ]

[aryaunderfoot]

[This time, she gives a faint smile.]

You called yourself old.

[greenjacketed]

I'm allowed. That's my right. But you, lass, must not have been taught to respect your elders.

[ still joking, though it may not look it. ]

[aryaunderfoot]

[It's strange how much that stings, coming from someone so similar to Father. Her eyes drop to the floor.]

I was taught. I just didn't learn it very well.

[No fault of anyone but her.]

[greenjacketed]

Then again -- [ he's bold enough now to try and tuck a knuckle under her chin and draw her face back up. her eyes off the floor. ] Maybe you never did have any elders 'round to respect. I know that feeling.

[aryaunderfoot]

[She frowns at that, but doesn't slap at him, either. Although she's a little tempted. Can't bring herself to do it, though. Still, her grey eyes are defiant.]

I did so. I had my father. [This is Cat speaking, not Arya. Always Cat when it's a background story.] He died a few years ago, though.

[greenjacketed]

[ ...his good humour disappears. in fact, sharpe looks downright apologetic. ]

Oh. Lass. I'm sorry. I meant no real disrespect.

[aryaunderfoot]

[She tries to keep looking defiant for a moment, but it's a hard thing to do when he looks like he really meant that apology. She shakes her head.]

It's fine. I know you didn't. Besides, I didn't tell you.

[greenjacketed]

[ awkwardly: ] Buck up, darling. Us with no fathers? I suppose we must stick together. [ and he offers her a large, rough hand for the shaking. never has he mentioned his lack of father to anyone in luceti, and nor does he ever really want to. but it seems fitting to tell this little one. mayhaps it'll explain just how little harm he'd meant. ]

Sokka Thunderaxe seems to be out, today. But we'll set you up with another blade and I'll come speak to him when he's back. Aye?

[aryaunderfoot]

[It's definitely not an answer she was expecting, so she stares as he holds his hand out. But the offer to come back for a blade later on makes a faint smile twitch onto her face and she gives his hand a solid shake. Don't mind her blacksmith's hands.]

Aye.

[greenjacketed]

[ so long as his rough soldier's hands ain't minded either! there may even be smudges and powder burns on patches of skin. but he gives the girl's hand a firm shake, surprised that a child should have hands so rough -- but not shocked. ]

I still think the stiletto could do you for now, Cat. But if you want something a little longer...?

[aryaunderfoot]

[Arya doesn't mind rough soldier's hands! Her father's hands weren't exactly soft, either, so this is just one more similarity that she's pointedly ignoring for now.

She shakes her head in answer to his question.]

The stiletto will be fine for now. I don't think I need a broadsword here.

[yeah, definitely joking about that.]

[greenjacketed]

You get tall enough for a bloody broadsword? And I'll give you my own blade. [ it's an easy promise, because he doubts the girl will ever manage it. so he makes it with a laugh and reaches once again for the pretty little stiletto.

he holds it out to the girl. ] 'Ere, Cat. Do good with it. Or if you don't do good, at least don't get caught.

[aryaunderfoot]

[She takes the blade carefully, not bothering to fight back the grin that twitches onto her face.]

I never get caught. But I'll try to do good with it.

[Not that she'll promise anything. If someone starts something or if she has to defend herself, she'll do it without much remorse.]

[greenjacketed]

In that case? [ he grins. ] I'll leave you to it, Cat. Don't be shy. Look us up on that infernal book if you need anything, aye?

[aryaunderfoot]

[She nods.] Aye. I will.

[Once she figures it out, anyway. She starts to turn to go, but stops and glances back at him. Manners are a thing. Sometimes.]

Thank you, Sharpe.

[greenjacketed]

...Any time, Cat. Consider me at your service.

[ after all, it's an officer's prerogative to offer his support to anyone who might benefit from it. ]