( OPEN ) i don't know whether to pity you...

[unprays]

Who: sansa stark (unprays) and YOU! also various others, probably.
What: sansa deals with the yet another untimely death of her husband, is a good wolf owner and takes one step further towards a career in gunslinging. or something.
When: early february
Where: olympia, edrathe ruins, wyver & stasis
Warning(s): your standard game of thrones warnings apply...

i. edrathe ruins — the obligatory direwolf prompt

[ it is lucky for her that Lady is small enough for most people to consider her a larger, domestic dog whenever she is out and about in Wyver — yet a wolf is always a wolf, and so she heads for the ruins where Lady can run around freely, hunt for whatever wildlife she comes across.

( a. ) it's something she never had a chance to do, back home, watching Lady run around and hunt; perhaps then she'd have been horrified by the small game caught and slaughtered in front of her, but now it seems as natural as anything... as long as Lady doesn't try to bring her the food she's caught.

but should anyone happen to try and approach them when Lady has her catch of the day in front of her, they'll be met with growling and a howl — loud enough for Sansa to hear and look up to see what is going on. ]

Lady, stop that! [ she's fairly sure whoever's coming closer is not a threat...

( b. ) but a wolf requires rest, too. they sit together, Sansa on what was once a pillar, now broken and covered in moss, and Lady next to her, curled around her feet. occasionally, she leans down, runs her hand over Lady's head, whispering, ] ... good girl.

ii. wyver — a girl with a gun

[ if someone, anyone had told Sansa she would ever own what she considers a modern version of a bow and would willingly train herself to use it, she'd likely have laughed at them, told them they have mistaken her for her sister. courtesy had ever been her armor, the training she received from Littlefinger her weapon: she had never owned a real one, not in Westeros.

here, though, women were armed as often as men, and no one seemed to find it at all strange. different customs, she supposed, and ones she would have to adjust to — not least because she never again wanted to feel as helpless as she had, back home.

( a. ) she chooses Wyver, for she spends less time there, some ways off from the city, a clearing in the jungle where she can carve an x on a tree and walk to the other side, holding the gun as Ocelot had taught her to, taking aim. the sound of the gunshot is followed by the flap of wings, birds scared off from their places on the treetops.

she walks closer to her target, an unhappy frown on her lips when she sees the bullet hit nowhere near the mark. ]

Not good enough, [ she whispers, turning around, ready to try again.

( b. ) it's not a surprise that the frequent sounds of gunshots echoing in the jungle would draw attention, and yet she is so focused that when she hears the rustle of leaves and bushes, she turns around, already on edge, and calls out, ]

Who's there? [ after the recent events, it's probably not that strange for her to be on high alert, still. ]

iii. stasis unit — a widow's farewell

[ of course she goes to see him. after the body has been hidden, after all the blood has been washed off of her dress and Lady's fur, when enough time has passed — she leaves the surface and goes to the station. her mind won't rest easy until she's sure.

and so one may catch her there, standing in front of the pod of a man with dark hair and a smile on his lips, a smile that makes her feel as uneasy as ever. it isn't the smile of someone who's lost. and yet... the undeniable truth is here for all to see: he is back in his pod, sleeping... for now. hopefully for ever. ]

Sleep well, Lord Bolton. [ when she speaks, it is with the finality of a promise: should he wake, she will be here. waiting. and this time, she'd make sure he never makes it away from the station. ]

iv. wildcard — you know the drill

[ individual starters in comments for murder things; if you want something else that isn't included in the open prompts, feel free to write me something or hit me up on plurk @ celen and i'll write us something! ]

Comments

i - edarathe ruins (a)

[kaleorbekaled]

[Kale has faced down untamed Wyver dragons without balking in fear before, so she's not scared of Lady when she sees them. Her fears are more focused on social interaction, and she's working on those.

She'd approached because she caught the scent of blood in the air, but it seems that it was just the large canine hunting rather than a person in need of help.]

Your pet is beautiful, miss.

[unprays]

[ her look of surprise at a stranger addressing her melts into a soft smile, when she realizes the girl is here to talk about Lady... even though she still shakes her head. ]

A direwolf is not a pet. [ a gentle correction. ] But I'm glad you think so. Lady is very beautiful.

[kaleorbekaled]

I've never seen a direwolf before.

[Even the name is foreign to her, and she honestly has no idea if they're a native to this world, or if they're from another entirely. Hard to tell given the Natha's work in trying to preserve as much from other worlds as possible, but she has at least seen this girl's face on the network before even if this is the first time they've personally spoken. So that saves the awkward "are you a refugee" portion of the conversation, and Kale is free to ask directly.]

Are direwolves native to your world, or are they one of the species from here?

[unprays]

Most haven't.

[ after all, it wasn't like direwolves had been all that common in Westeros, either. and with Lady, Grey Wind and Shaggydog gone and Nymeria out there in the wild, there had been only Ghost left. ]

They're from Westeros. They're the sigil of our house... and our symbol. They gave Lady back to me only recently.