"The summer I was born in was just ending when I was nine," Arya said, eyes skimming over the street they were walking down, looking for anything other people might not notice. For the interesting detour. It'd take her mind off things.

"Seasons in Westeros are long. That was a particularly long summer, though. Everyone said the winter that followed it was going to be brutal. I never got to see it, though. I left before that. Then I left again, kind of, when I ended up here."