[ is it? is it truly smart? sansa supposes it is; if no one knows who or where arya is, then no one can rightly cage or use her for their own purposes. but names have power too, especially in the seven kingdoms, and arya could do with some of the protection her stark name would afford her.

would it be good for her? sansa had relied on her name for safety until it had turned jagged and piercing, causing her more damage than if she maintained the illusion of being a whoremaster's bastard child. it was her name that put her in joffrey's way. it was her name that had placed her in ramsay bolton's hands.

sansa nods with more sincerity than she truly feels. ]

Arya's always been clever. She would know what to do, as long as she had the opportunity.

[ clever little arya, all strange and boyish and stubborn. if she's still alive, then she would have a better time amongst smallfolk than sansa ever will.

she turns her gaze sidelong, looking at the hound's profile with open wonder. not because of the scars; she's long forgotten to fear scars, now that she's littered with her own collection. no, she's finally getting a proper look of him under true sunlight, without the reflective glare of hammered armour covering his shape. ]

You've gotten wan, just a little. [ sansa wants to reach out to him, to hold his hand, but she worries the gesture would not be so welcome this soon. she sets the basket between them, letting it serve a barrier however flimsy. sansa thinks it's for their benefit, this illusion of space. ] Where are you staying currently? You really should not let your leg be unattended.