(no subject)
Since her last conversation with Polly, Arya had been avoiding the compound. What Polly had said about how someone was watching them and the likelihood that whoever it was wanted them to spend time at the compound had made sense, and Arya was inclined to follow Polly's lead and not make it easier for them to keep tabs on her.
But she'd come to the conclusion that she didn't have much of a choice but to go there; her robe just wasn't suitable wear for day-to-day life on the island - it restricted her movement, the black half soaked up the sun and left her feeling like half her body was in an oven (with the disconcerting effect that the other side, the white side, stayed rather cool), and Arya Stark had no reason to be wearing the robe of an acolyte of the Many-Faced God anyway.
Unfortunately, now that she was in the compound, her plan to find some clothing and then quickly leave had hit a snag: she didn't have the slightest idea where the clothing was. She poked her head through another doorway, and glanced around to see if this one had any piles of garments conveniently lying about in it.
But she'd come to the conclusion that she didn't have much of a choice but to go there; her robe just wasn't suitable wear for day-to-day life on the island - it restricted her movement, the black half soaked up the sun and left her feeling like half her body was in an oven (with the disconcerting effect that the other side, the white side, stayed rather cool), and Arya Stark had no reason to be wearing the robe of an acolyte of the Many-Faced God anyway.
Unfortunately, now that she was in the compound, her plan to find some clothing and then quickly leave had hit a snag: she didn't have the slightest idea where the clothing was. She poked her head through another doorway, and glanced around to see if this one had any piles of garments conveniently lying about in it.