"She's a direwolf," Arya said, managing to inject some pride into the statement. She'd proved troubling, in recent times, in what she represented and what her actions had implied about Arya herself. But for all that, Nymeria was hers. She used to dream through her eyes. She could never turn her back on that.

"They're bigger. And we're working on it. It'll all be gone in a month, and I can't decide if that means I should work faster or not even bother."

She tried not to think about how that thought applied to so many other things in her life at the moment.