[ she makes no answer. not when she cannot speak for fear of saying something she should not. arya measures a lock of hair with her fingers and cuts the excess.
sometimes she remembers and she would claw at her own memories to remove them.
was it a knife that did it? a blade no bigger than the scissors that come so close to his neck now? a bolt from a crossbow could bring down a man, but robb has always been so much stronger. the young wolf that cannot be killed.
red curls settle on his shoulders and on the floor. arya continues cutting. when she is almost finished, she comes around in front of him. she sweeps her hands through his hair, checking that the sides are even. she never looks him in the eye. if she does, she might scream.
no subject
sometimes she remembers and she would claw at her own memories to remove them.
was it a knife that did it? a blade no bigger than the scissors that come so close to his neck now? a bolt from a crossbow could bring down a man, but robb has always been so much stronger. the young wolf that cannot be killed.
red curls settle on his shoulders and on the floor. arya continues cutting. when she is almost finished, she comes around in front of him. she sweeps her hands through his hair, checking that the sides are even. she never looks him in the eye. if she does, she might scream.
when she is satisfied, she moves back. ]
I'm finished.