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Arya

           

           Itwasmiddaywhentheyarrivedattheplacewherethevillagehadbeen.Thefieldswereacharreddesolationformilesaround,thehousesblackenedshells.Thecarcassesofburntandbutcheredanimalsdottedtheground,underlivingblanketsofcarrioncrowsthatrose,cawingfuriously,whendisturbed.Smokestilldriftedfrominsidetheholdfast.Itstimberpalisadelookedstrongfromafar,buthadnotprovedstrongenough.

           Ridingoutinfrontofthewagonsonherhorse,Aryasawburntbodiesimpaledonsharpenedstakesatopthewalls,theirhandsdrawnuptightinfrontoftheirfacesasiftofightofftheflamesthathadconsumedthem.Yorencalledahaltwhentheywerestillsomedistanceoff,andtoldAryaandtheotherboystoguardthewagonswhileheandMurchandCutjackwentinonfoot.Aflockofravensrosefrominsidethewallswhentheyclimbedthroughthebrokengate,andthecagedravensintheirwagonscalledouttothemwithquorksandraucousshrieks.

           "Shouldwegoinafterthem?"AryaaskedGendryafterYorenandtheothershadbeengonealongtime.

           "Yorensaidwait."Gendry’svoicesoundedhollow.WhenAryaturnedtolook,shesawthathewaswearinghishelm,allshinysteelandgreatcurvinghorns.

           Whentheyfinallyreturned,Yorenhadalittlegirlinhisarms,andMurchandCutjackwerecarryingawomaninaslingmadeofanoldtornquilt.

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