Arya had been pacing the beachy shore, looking for shells to bring back to Sansa. Little sparkling ones that had flecks in them that shone and some duller ones with spiraling shapes - they didn't have things like that in Winterfell. Nymeria had been following her until she stood stock still, nose pointed in the direction of the shore as she bowed her head forward slightly, ears flat and tail swaying behind her raised hindquarters.
"Nymeria, come!" Arya called to her wolf as she stayed there with her tail swaying and her mouth parted. She was bigger than Arya remembered in person but she had seen her in dreams. Her pack had been glorious but now she was home with her true pack. She was home with Arya.
"Nymeria, come!" Arya called again but this time the wolf didn't listen, darting towards the shore. Arya bolted after her, swearing in Common Tongue and Valyrian as she went. Her wolf could be unruly at times, not unlike the girl who claimed her. "Nymeria you can't chase the damned-"
Whatever she'd been about to say died on her lips.
"Father" She remembered wishing to the Old Gods every night since to make her father come back to her. She'd asked Thoros if he could bring back a man without a head but he'd told her he couldn't. Only Beric Dondarion was allowed the privilege apparently. She wasn't No One. In her heart she had always been Arya Stark of Winterfell, Daughter of the North - Daughter of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Stark. She had wished every night, chanting the names of those who had wronged their family, that she could have the power to bring back her parents. She prayed every single night, even here, for her parents and Robb and their little brothers.
"Father-!!" Arya hadn't even realized she'd been running all the way to him, nearly slipping and falling in an ungraceful mess as she did. That wouldn't be befitting of a Faceless Man. It didn't take her long to go running straight into his arms, throwing her own around him. She practically lept into them when she was close enough.
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"Nymeria, come!" Arya called to her wolf as she stayed there with her tail swaying and her mouth parted. She was bigger than Arya remembered in person but she had seen her in dreams. Her pack had been glorious but now she was home with her true pack. She was home with Arya.
"Nymeria, come!" Arya called again but this time the wolf didn't listen, darting towards the shore. Arya bolted after her, swearing in Common Tongue and Valyrian as she went. Her wolf could be unruly at times, not unlike the girl who claimed her. "Nymeria you can't chase the damned-"
Whatever she'd been about to say died on her lips.
"Father" She remembered wishing to the Old Gods every night since to make her father come back to her. She'd asked Thoros if he could bring back a man without a head but he'd told her he couldn't. Only Beric Dondarion was allowed the privilege apparently. She wasn't No One. In her heart she had always been Arya Stark of Winterfell, Daughter of the North - Daughter of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Stark. She had wished every night, chanting the names of those who had wronged their family, that she could have the power to bring back her parents. She prayed every single night, even here, for her parents and Robb and their little brothers.
"Father-!!" Arya hadn't even realized she'd been running all the way to him, nearly slipping and falling in an ungraceful mess as she did. That wouldn't be befitting of a Faceless Man. It didn't take her long to go running straight into his arms, throwing her own around him. She practically lept into them when she was close enough.