PARADISA

Today has marked one year since I first arrived in this place. [It has been a time here. Though now she feels just as confused as she did when she arrived. A year of pretending, of trying to figure out who Alayne is and what to do without Baelish. She has managed to stay safe, despite two Lannisters appearing.

There's a long pause.]

I wonder if I should ever see home again. [She means Winterfell even if it has been sacked.]

I miss my family. [An admission mayhaps? But she means Bran and Rickon. And her father. She misses Jon as well. She hopes he is at least safe at the Wall. He has always been brave as well. She thought of him often as being considered a bastard now.] Even in a castle full of people, one can still be lonely.

Age is a thing to ponder, of what lies waiting for us back home. [She thinks of the Vale, and what is to become of Alayne Stone. Sansa Stark must be dead, she tells herself.]

Does the castle truly know what is to be if some did not age while others did? [Was it an omen?] I know little of magic, as its use has long since died where I am from. Perhaps this is but another trick. None can foretell the future.

I should have liked to grown old, though I have not an idea of what my father's wishes. [She is simply relieved to be away and free of Lannisters, let alone planning for what is to come. No doubt Petyr has something planned. She briefly thinks of Winterfell, the promise he once made.]

I have safety while Westeros is still torn. The castle would like me to believe that isn't so, I presume.

The holidays here are most strange. First Christmas, a day for the birth of your God's son, and then the death of one of your holy men is celebrated by sweets and tokens of affection? We have no such day in Westeros.

[Protip: Westeros never has anything nice.]

I spent the day in my room. If Christmas would have us being intimate with one another, I only feared what the castle would do on this day. I wonder if every holiday is accustomed by some trickery here.

[Perhaps that is part of the game.]

[Sitting outside, she's dressed in warmer furs. This is something more what she's used to, but what a strange place.]

I've heard tale from many people of their homes, most seem far different from this place. Paradisa is not unlike parts of Westeros, perhaps not the North or the very south, but I picture it not too different from the Vale, save no quarries.

Aside from your weather, one thing I've found most strange is the concept of trueborn and baseborn children. I am the bastard of a lord back home, but I am told that means nothing here. I am more fortunate that my father has cared for me like his own trueborn and that he is a lord, but there are vile stories of bastards not so lucky. Many end up on the Wall, vowing themselves to the Black for there is no life as a baseborn son, nothing to be given.

Those who I have talked to have treated me kindly even, without knowing who my father is. Perhaps you are all from some strange lands indeed.

ooc: Still on her loss. Feel free to run into her outside the castle.

I would wish to ride out to the barrier, to see it for myself. I ask for an accomplice, the assistance of someone who has gone out before. [Not that she couldn't herself, but Sansa knew the Castle and the town, and not much else outside of there. Even as Lady, she never ventured out that far.]

[Arya Stark]

Have you any recommendation for a weapon of choice here? I know naught in these matters, but I thought a bow would be best. Are there any here you know of that could teach me?