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

[universal_charm]

Well, I guess that depends if you know people here already or if you want to live alone or don't mind making some new friends. It's kind of up to you, but inside is going to be better than out, even with winter ebbing.

[aryaunderfoot]

But I don't know anybody here. [And she's not sure she wants to live alone, either, although she doesn't share that.] No one else around here is from Braavos. At least that I've seen.

[universal_charm]

Braavos is your home country, I take it?

[aryaunderfoot]

[Absently, she bites her lip. "Home" is a lofty word for it. Nothing is "home" anymore.] It is now. I was born in Westeros, but I now live in Braavos. Where are you from?

[universal_charm]

Hmm, well, country wise I'm from the good old USA, though I was born in space technically. I grew up in Iowa, and then went to Cali to study at Star Fleet. So I'm from a lot of places, you could say.

[aryaunderfoot]

[Yeah, you lost her again, but that last part explains it all.]

You travel around a lot. You're not in a mummer troupe, are you?

[He could be a mummer, with how easily he smiles...]

[universal_charm]

_{[ He had to pause a bit and think back through his English Lit classes to figure out what a mummer was. He thought he had it.]}

Uh, mummer means an actor, right? A traveling actor in a group?

[aryaunderfoot]

[She nods. After all her time talking to the mummers in Braavos, she's come to realize that they seem to be everywhere, even though the word isn't always the same.]

Some of the ones I know are better acrobats than actors.

[universal_charm]

Well, hate to disappoint, I am no mummer. I work for Star Fleet. I'm Captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise.

[aryaunderfoot]

A captain? [She's gotten fairly close with several ship captains ever since arriving in Braavos, and that would have been one of the last guesses she might have had for what this man would do. She can't help a faint smile.] You don't look like you've been sailing all over the world, either.

[universal_charm]

Well, not the world, per say. Worlds - plural.

_{[ He motioned up with his hand, into the sky. ]}

Out into the stars. I captain a space-ship.

[aryaunderfoot]

[This is a perfect lineface you are getting, Kirk.]

Now I know you're just a mummer.

[universal_charm]

_{[ He laughed and shook his head. ]}

No! I'm serious! I come from a world where travel among the stars is possible - commonplace even. I serve the group that helps protect planets and explore new ones with space ships.

[aryaunderfoot]

But how? Doesn't the air get too thin that high up?

[That and cold. The higher the mountain, the harder it gets to breathe comfortably, after all.]

[universal_charm]

In space there is no air, but the ships have oxygen for us to breath and pressurize themselves so we can survive. It's why hull breaches are very bad when they happen.

[aryaunderfoot]

[She's still not really buying any of this.]

Wouldn't you sink out of the air, too? If the hull was breached, that is.

[universal_charm]

Well, we're not in the air. We're outside the atmosphere and gravitation pull of the earth, so we would more or less be floating as the hull looses air while it attempts to balance outside and inside pressures. Most people near the hull breach will probably die quick and possible painless deaths, others will suffocate, and unless it and other sectors of the ship are sealed, so will the rest of the crew.

So, no sinking, just... bad things.

[aryaunderfoot]

[She. Sort of followed that. Kind of. Most of what she got was "people die fast." Which isn't all that different from a sinking ship, although the fastness of that varies. She frowns thoughtfully.]

It could be worse. If it's quick and possibly painless, that is.

[It could be torturous.]

[universal_charm]

Yeah, point is, you don't want it happening, though I guess the idea of a sudden and painless death is mildly comforting.

_{[ Not. ]}