[ She has another chance to lunge at him, and she doesn’t seize it. Why should he take anyone at their word, especially when they’re offering a breach of peace? There was no finer time to take advantage. But she hasn’t, and she doesn’t, and he studies her face for a moment longer as if there might be an explanation there. What are the chances that he has done nothing than run into a gentle stranger in the woods? The gods are rarely so complacent.
She’s as puzzled as he feels, it would seem, and the furrow in his brow only deepens as she speaks. The words are empty, like foreign names scrawled on a map, and he shakes his head. That isn’t the North he knows. He hasn’t found this place – any of it – to be made of things he knows, however. Not the land, and not the people. He knows the Reach, but it’s clear that it is not the verdant lands from Silverhill to Sandstone that she speaks of. ]
No, the North. Winterfell. [ He’s sure this means as little to her as the name of her home did to him. There’s a lopsided smile on his face for that. ] You remind me of my home, that’s all.
[ Her cloak and her bearing struck him as Northern, and so did her cautious brand of trust, and her more cautious touch. He takes a step back and dips his head. ] It's a pleasure not to have your arrow in my heart, Juliel. I’m Robb. [ A pause, as he considers how to ask after her family name. Maybe she doesn’t have one? Maybe she’s a Snow or a Stone or a Sand. It’s difficult to tell in the shadowy woods who is lowborn and who hails from a castle. ] Where’s your family?
no subject
She’s as puzzled as he feels, it would seem, and the furrow in his brow only deepens as she speaks. The words are empty, like foreign names scrawled on a map, and he shakes his head. That isn’t the North he knows. He hasn’t found this place – any of it – to be made of things he knows, however. Not the land, and not the people. He knows the Reach, but it’s clear that it is not the verdant lands from Silverhill to Sandstone that she speaks of. ]
No, the North. Winterfell. [ He’s sure this means as little to her as the name of her home did to him. There’s a lopsided smile on his face for that. ] You remind me of my home, that’s all.
[ Her cloak and her bearing struck him as Northern, and so did her cautious brand of trust, and her more cautious touch. He takes a step back and dips his head. ] It's a pleasure not to have your arrow in my heart, Juliel. I’m Robb. [ A pause, as he considers how to ask after her family name. Maybe she doesn’t have one? Maybe she’s a Snow or a Stone or a Sand. It’s difficult to tell in the shadowy woods who is lowborn and who hails from a castle. ] Where’s your family?