[ sansa pales at the sight of the bandaged eye. it's been a rough couple of months, to say little of what's gone on in milton and beyond it. the forest talkers, the news of mutilated bodies, the trials and the attempts at punishment and this revived argument to take hostages for interrogation — it's all too reminiscent of the world she's left behind.

much as sansa wishes no part of it, she finds herself drawn in circles around the thought of how they could do better. perhaps she's learned more than most people thought she had, back in king's landing. ]

Lady Randvi, your eye— [ her distraught tone pairs with her aborted gesture, thinking to reach out and then minding herself. no, she should ask permission first. she cannot just people as she wishes, especially when she pretends to be common folk. ] I've fared better, my lady. But you've met worse, just recently, and I've not made the courtesy of wishing you well.

Does it... Do you still hurt?