--Lonely.

[ not bored. lonely. but the words are said too quick and too honest. sansa shakes her head and wants to move past her unfortunate confession. how could a girl claiming to have no family here explain to him why she was so lonely? ] Why wolf pelts?

[ she feels her skin crawl at the thought. ]

Those poor wolves. [ she says it as if she means it -- full-hearted and a little sad. sansa doesn't relish the thought of those noble animals (her family's animals) splayed out and flensed and flayed. ] To what end are their skins sacrificed?

[ she opens her mouth: the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. and she closes her mouth just as quick. hers is not the place to question him or his motives or his...ingredients. although it turns her stomach to think of even a regular wolf as no more than an item on a list.

sansa runs her thumbnail over the chair's arm. ] And so these could be the pelts of great and noble wolves. Ancient, mayhaps. Their howls unheard for centuries.

[ now and then, her heart still tends towards the theatrical. ]

[ i know, she thinks. but swallows her truths and presses instead her former line of inquiry: ] What magic are you doing today, Stiles?

I'm not certain -- [ which way 'round it goes. and she could barely bring herself to wonder, because there was a far more pressing concern: ] The wolf pelts. They aren't for...Lady Daenerys's potion, are they?

[ because that would be worrying. ]

Have you ever seen a direwolf?

[ she edges forward on the chair. her eyes don't quite stick on his; she finds she has to break eye contact and often glance demurely at the ground. it's hard to sit still as she contemplates breaking into one small speck of truth. ] There are...two, I believe. Two in Caer Glaem.

Jon has a sister. [ two sisters. ] And that sister also has a wolf. She and Ser Gendry are...friends, I suppose. When we were all of us sent off to Caer Scima, Lady Arya Stark sent her wolf with him.

[ with me. but the details need changing. ] The animal was with us for our whole journey back. I think she did more to keep us safe than Ser Gendry's sword ever could. So -- yes. I think I rather like wolves.

...Are you afraid of them, Stiles?

[ sansa fears many things. even little simple gestures send her heart into fluttering frightened palpitations. but she does not fear wolves. at least, not the ones bonded to her family. ]

Nymeria -- that's Lady Arya's -- she let me lay at night with my arms around her and my cheek in her fur. Nearly every night on the road was made better for it. [ a soft smile. lonely or not (a little peeved at her sister or not!) sansa is clearly pleased to conjure this memory. ] Her size was a comfort.

...Lady Arya's sister does not have a direwolf. [ even-keeled. patient. indeed, she could have expected this. after the way in which lucrezia had uncovered her lie, she knows she cannot depend upon sansa simple not existing. ] And if she did -- ah, I do not think she would have any reason to see you mauled.

[ this is playing with fire. ]

But you have heard of her? [ who, she wonders, has been talking? sansa bites at her bottom lip. ] I have heard of her, too. They say she is a stupid and silly girl -- unlucky in her suitors and her allies. But she has family here. So she cannot be so unlucky in the end.

Perhaps you'll teach her. [ sansa doesn't know what that f-word is, but she's not asking. she's on thin and rotten ice as it is. ] Or else perfect a potion for her that gives her all the cleverness she might ever want. Then she could certainly never hate you. I suspect.

[ she doesn't meet his eyes. how can she? not when she understands how she's gaming the conversation -- playing with what was real and what wasn't. flexing her scanty talents for subterfuge as taught to her by littlefinger.

briefly, she wonders what baelish would make of this young man. he would call him too earnest, she thinks. too eager. too wrapped up in his japes and his references. ]

Your powers of implication could use a little refining. [ a nervous glance. ] Unless you're not trying to be subtle.