[ sansa nods, first to steel herself then again to the man. what he holds in his hands that she thought might be a strange-shaped shortstaff is apparently a weapon; it's not yet aimed at her. she hopes to keep it that way. she hushes lady, which takes a quick moment - neither wishes to be too apart, but a wolf will always have teeth, and people are always wary of things with teeth.
she kisses lady quickly on the slope of her head before stepping away, and cautiously she approaches. if he pays attention, he'll notice her own fingertips have also been burned. ]
I lost my way and got caught in the fog. I assume it's the same for you? [ she inspects his hand carefully and— yes, they have the same kind of burns. from the fog, with its strange green colour. ] There is something wrong with it. The fog, that is. I touched it myself, and it burned. Cool water soothes it a little. I can bind your hand after, once it's clean.
Do you know how to start a fire? There's a fireplace and wood.
[ there are hanging pillars of ice they could melt; she can reach most of them, and her knife should be able to chip enough for the one working pot still hanging above the pit. she's never had to learn to start a fire herself; everyone else has done it for her. another thing she must learn, and quickly.
with enough ice, she could wash his hand and soothe the worst of the burn. the fire will melt the water, pull the dirt in the ice to the bottom of the pot. the weather should cool it enough to pour without further burning. she'll have to be careful. he seems to be civil man, but petyr baelish was also the same. ]
My name is Lyanna, [ she tells him after a moment, begs her father's sister for forgiveness in invoking her name. ] I'm not from here, and if this is your land I'll gladly be on my way after the fog lifts. My brother is up north, and I've not seen him in years.
[ it's something she learned early on; a little bit of truth, especially a sad truth, can disarm people. she doesn't want to lie to him beyond giving him a false name, but if ramsay were to find her, or worse him - she doesn't want to make it easy for him. ]
no subject
she kisses lady quickly on the slope of her head before stepping away, and cautiously she approaches. if he pays attention, he'll notice her own fingertips have also been burned. ]
I lost my way and got caught in the fog. I assume it's the same for you? [ she inspects his hand carefully and— yes, they have the same kind of burns. from the fog, with its strange green colour. ] There is something wrong with it. The fog, that is. I touched it myself, and it burned. Cool water soothes it a little. I can bind your hand after, once it's clean.
Do you know how to start a fire? There's a fireplace and wood.
[ there are hanging pillars of ice they could melt; she can reach most of them, and her knife should be able to chip enough for the one working pot still hanging above the pit. she's never had to learn to start a fire herself; everyone else has done it for her. another thing she must learn, and quickly.
with enough ice, she could wash his hand and soothe the worst of the burn. the fire will melt the water, pull the dirt in the ice to the bottom of the pot. the weather should cool it enough to pour without further burning. she'll have to be careful. he seems to be civil man, but petyr baelish was also the same. ]
My name is Lyanna, [ she tells him after a moment, begs her father's sister for forgiveness in invoking her name. ] I'm not from here, and if this is your land I'll gladly be on my way after the fog lifts. My brother is up north, and I've not seen him in years.
[ it's something she learned early on; a little bit of truth, especially a sad truth, can disarm people. she doesn't want to lie to him beyond giving him a false name, but if ramsay were to find her, or worse him - she doesn't want to make it easy for him. ]