backdated to August 2nd - for Arya
When Robb had told him a home had been built for those of his family that had come and gone from this strange place it hadn't taken Jon very long to want to take his leave of the clinic and go somewhere that, if not home, as close an approximation as this island could offer him. The knife wounds he'd taken were on the mend and while he was still stiff it wasn't unbearable and instead of resting more (he'd had plenty of rest, thank you) he'd decided to wander the grounds instead.
It bothered him that he didn't know this island the way he'd known the lands they ranged just beyond the Wall and he hoped, with a little time, he'd soon be familiar with this place as he'd been with home. Just outside the house itself was what seemed to be a practice ring, not unlike what had been in the yard at Winterfell and Castle Black and at practice was a girl who looked to be of an age with him: dark hair, slender. She had the sort of quick, practiced movements only someone intimate with swordplay could know and Jon couldn't help but wonder if she was Westerosi and, if she was, if she could be Arya. Robb had told him she was here.
"Arya?"
It bothered him that he didn't know this island the way he'd known the lands they ranged just beyond the Wall and he hoped, with a little time, he'd soon be familiar with this place as he'd been with home. Just outside the house itself was what seemed to be a practice ring, not unlike what had been in the yard at Winterfell and Castle Black and at practice was a girl who looked to be of an age with him: dark hair, slender. She had the sort of quick, practiced movements only someone intimate with swordplay could know and Jon couldn't help but wonder if she was Westerosi and, if she was, if she could be Arya. Robb had told him she was here.
"Arya?"