“What do you like to do?”She scuffed a toe amongst the rushes. “Needlework.”“Very restful, isn’t it?”“Well,” said Arya, “not the way I do it.”

“Arya, What are you doing?""Syrio says a water dancer can stand on one toe for hours." Her hands flailed at the air to steady herself.Ned had to smile. "Which toe?" he teased."ANY toe," Arya said, exasperated with the question. She hopped from her right leg to her left, swaying dangerously before she regained her balance."Must you do your standing here?" he asked. "It's a long hard fall down these steps.""Syrio says a water dancer NEVER falls.”

“I'm named Bella," the girl told Gendry. "For the battle. I bet I could ring your bell, too. You want to?""No," he said gruffly."I bet you do." She ran a hand along his arm. "I don't cost nothing to friends of Thoros and the lighting lord.""No, I said." Gendry rose abruptly and stalked away from the table out into the night.Bella turn to Arya. "Don't he like girls?"Arya shrugged. "He's just stupid. He likes to polish helmets and beat on swords with hammers.”

“I bet this is a brothel," she whispered to Gendry."You don't even know what a brothel is.""I do so," she insisted. "It's like an inn, with girls.”

“An old man sat down beside her. "Well, aren't you a pretty little peach?" His breath smelled near as foul as the dead men in the cages, and his little pig eyes were crawling up and down her. "Does my sweet peach have a name?"For half a heartbeat she forgot who she was supposed to be. She wasn't any peach, but she couldn't be Arya Stark either, not here with some smelly drunk she did not know. "I'm . . .""She's my sister." Gendry put a heavy hand on the old man's shoulder, and squeezed. "Leave her be."The man turned, spoiling for a quarrel, but when he saw Gendry's size he thought better of it. "You sister, is she? What kind of brother are you? I'd never bring no sister of mine to the Peach, that I wouldn't." He got up from the bench and moved off muttering, in search of a new friend."Why did you say that?" Arya hopped to her feet, "You're not my brother.""That's right," he said angrily. "I'm too bloody lowborn to be kin to m'lady high."Arya was taken aback by the fury in his voice. "That's not the way I mean it.""Yes it is." He sat down on the bench, cradling a cup of wine between his hands. "Go away. I want to drink this wine in peace. Then maybe I'll go find that black-haired girl and ring her bell for her.""But . . .""I said, go away. M'lady."Arya whirled and left him there. A stupid bullheaded bastard boy, that's all he is. He could ring all the bells he wanted, it was nothing to her.”

“Let me tell you something about wolves, child. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. In winter, we must protect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths. So if you must hate, Arya, hate those who would truly do us harm.”

“Who'd want to kill the likes of you?" "My lord father, for one. He's put me in the van." "I'd do the same. A small man with a big shield. You'll give the archers fits.”