A Harp Can Be A Dangerous As

There Is A Savage Beast In Every Man, And When You Hand That Man A Sword Or Spear And Send Him Forth To War, The Beast Stirs.

Go Ahead, Call Me All The Names You Want," Sansa Said Airily. "you Won't Dare When I'm Married To Joffrey. You'll Have To Bow And Call Me Your Grace." She Shrieked As Arya Flung The Orange Across The Table. It Caught Her In The Middle Of The Forehead With A Wet Squish And Plopped Down Into Her Lap. "you Have Juice On Your Face, Your Grace ," Arya Said.

A Few Days Ago She Had Been Wandering Around With A Swatch Of Black Silk Tied Over Her Eyes. Syrio Was Teaching Her To See With Her Ears And Her Nose And Her Skin, She Told Him. Before That, He Had Her Doing Spinds And Back Flips. "arya, Are You Certain You Want To Persist In This?" She Nodded. "tomorrow We're Going To Catch Cats." "cats." Ned Sighed.

Irri And Jhiqui Argued About Rakharo. “you Are Too Skinny For Him,” Jhiqui Was Saying. “you Are Almost A Boy. Rakharo Does Not Bed With Boys. This Is Known.” Irri Bristled Back. “it Is Known That You Are Almost A Cow. Rakharo Does Not Bed With Cows.

It Was The Easiest Thing In The World For Arya To Step Up Behind Him And Stab Him. “is There Gold Hidden In The Village?” She Shouted As She Drove The Blade Up Through His Back. “is There Silver? Gems?” She Stabbed Twice More. “is There Food? Where Is Lord Beric?” She Was On Top Of Him By Then, Still Stabbing. “where Did He Go? How Many Men Were With Him? How Many Knights? How Many Bowmen? How Many, How Many, How Many, How Many, How Many, How Many? Is There Gold In The Village?