I wouldn't wear a stupid... wait. Crap.
Arya had spent her last two name-days she didn't know where, probably sleeping in some bushes and being captured or running for someone trying to and nearly dying.
This was clearly the worst name-day yet.
She was in a gown.
It was pink.
There were frills.
And it was pink.
It was billowy about her legs, and she couldn't move properly, not just because of this but also the shoes. They were cloth, and worse than useless. Like the tights. Only they weren't tights, they were just sheer mesh, and what was the point of that?
Not to mention that she couldn't breathe properly, because of the way it was cinched at the waist and generally made it apparent that while she wouldn't take much effort for her to look like a boy, it would take more effort than it had a few months ago.
Plus, it was pink.
It had wings. They were glittery.
She hadn't been able to get out of it, no matter how hard she struggled. She'd tried cutting it apart with Needle, and failed. She hadn't been able to get her swordbelt on, and whenever she tried t slip a knife up her sleeve it just slipped out, or she forgot somehow. It was made even more difficult by the stupid stick with a star on it she couldn't seem to put down.
It was glittery, too. When she shook it, glitter dusted over things.
She couldn't get the tiara off, either.
Nymeria, behind her (the puppies were back in the cave, and doing well, but she wasn't going to subject them to people yet), also had a pink monstrosity on, but after one attempt at chewing it off, had left it alone. Wings, pink, frills, same as hers.
The only part of her outfit that was not cute and adorable and sweet and charming was her expression, which could have flayed a man far faster than Roose Bolton had ever managed.
It was PINK.
This was clearly the worst name-day yet.
She was in a gown.
It was pink.
There were frills.
And it was pink.
It was billowy about her legs, and she couldn't move properly, not just because of this but also the shoes. They were cloth, and worse than useless. Like the tights. Only they weren't tights, they were just sheer mesh, and what was the point of that?
Not to mention that she couldn't breathe properly, because of the way it was cinched at the waist and generally made it apparent that while she wouldn't take much effort for her to look like a boy, it would take more effort than it had a few months ago.
Plus, it was pink.
It had wings. They were glittery.
She hadn't been able to get out of it, no matter how hard she struggled. She'd tried cutting it apart with Needle, and failed. She hadn't been able to get her swordbelt on, and whenever she tried t slip a knife up her sleeve it just slipped out, or she forgot somehow. It was made even more difficult by the stupid stick with a star on it she couldn't seem to put down.
It was glittery, too. When she shook it, glitter dusted over things.
She couldn't get the tiara off, either.
Nymeria, behind her (the puppies were back in the cave, and doing well, but she wasn't going to subject them to people yet), also had a pink monstrosity on, but after one attempt at chewing it off, had left it alone. Wings, pink, frills, same as hers.
The only part of her outfit that was not cute and adorable and sweet and charming was her expression, which could have flayed a man far faster than Roose Bolton had ever managed.
It was PINK.