She practices her needlework
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| - | Sansa spent the afternoon practicing her needlework. She was quite advanced for a girl her age, but that's only because her fingers were thin and nimble. Septa Mordane looked up from her canvas work and examined Sansa's handiwork. She had been embroidering beautiful, blue | + | Sansa spent the afternoon practicing her needlework. She was quite advanced for a girl her age, but that's only because her fingers were thin and nimble. Septa Mordane looked up from her canvas work and examined Sansa's handiwork. She had been embroidering beautiful, blue lilies onto a dress that she made for herself. |
"Ah, fine work as always, Sansa," she complimented. | "Ah, fine work as always, Sansa," she complimented. | ||
Current revision as of 07:07, 27 March 2017
Sansa spent the afternoon practicing her needlework. She was quite advanced for a girl her age, but that's only because her fingers were thin and nimble. Septa Mordane looked up from her canvas work and examined Sansa's handiwork. She had been embroidering beautiful, blue lilies onto a dress that she made for herself.
"Ah, fine work as always, Sansa," she complimented.
Sansa looked at her a smiled, "Thank you, Septa. It's for the feast tonight. The prince is going to be there, so I want to look my very best when he sees me."
Later that evening, Sansa headed for the great hall. She adorned the dress she had put so much love into making and wore her hair in braids like a true Northern lady. She had almost reached the door to the great hall, even from outside she could hear the laughter of men and the clanking of tankards. But, she had seen something walk past her out of the corner of her eye.
It was Sandor Clegane. Truth be told, he frightened Sansa. The sight of his burnt face left chills down her spine. He walked past her and disappeared behind a corner of a cobblestone wall. He probably didn't see her on account of her being half his size and far away.
Where does Sansa go?
