Jaqen slept little that night, his thoughts too turbulent to submit to slumber. It was imprecise trepidation with regard to what would happen if the Ironborn were to come pouring through the forest in a heavily armed garrison. There would be nothing he could do save stand ... and die ... hoping his efforts would give Arya enough leeway to make it to safety. He would have to rely upon instinct and cunning to get them to Essos. The invisible sun climbed higher, the snowfall growing heavier over the knotted leafless limbs. He placed a hand on her arm and leaned close, keeping his voice undetectable. "We must be on our way before this storm makes our progress impossible.

She had not slept that night either, keeping watch with a keen eye and fine tuned hearing thanks to her time on the streets after her father was arrested as a traitor. She shivered in the cold but tried not to let it show, her coat propped up behind Jaqens shoulder so he could be comfortable, or at least more so sitting against a tree in a thicket. Her eyes averted upward when a chilled wind blew through the brambles and brackets, shaking the limbs, causing snow to fall upon her lightly. Snow! She just hoped they made it where they were headed to before they both froze. Eyes furrowing slightly, did she nod her head at his insistent whisper. He was right, they had to be on their way and she knew better then to ask him if he was alright, for she knew he would rather die then admit to weakness. Stubborn, more so then herself, though she knew what to look for now should he need help again, but she had a feeling he would refuse it even if she was right. Still, she knew that his shoulder had to be taken easy on and would see to it that he did so, whether he liked it or not. Sheathing her dagger at her side, did she take up her coat after he had stood and put it about her shoulders, but even that gave no comfort save the warmth from his body heat from resting upon it, which she cherished till it faded away. She looked at him, as if asking him to where they would go now, for if he gave her a direction, she could lead them, as best she could, through the thickets of the deep forests hold, unseen and the thickets and glades would keep the snow at bay. It would give them a chance./

"Which way do we go? Give a Girl a place, or direction. She knows these woods better then any Ironborn and will lead as straight as she can, if allowed." surprised by how calm her words sounded even to her own ears. As if talking about going upon a stroll and not fleeing from Westeros as they were. She was calm, collected, set with purpose and to realize that as well, when she should have been panicking, took her by surprise while she contemplated all the things she had been through, while she waited for his answer.

Meanwhile, back at Winterfell, Theon was sitting in the great hall, feasting and celebrating Aryas capture. For surely now, no one would dare mock his claim now that he had a Stark to wed. He was interrupted by a guard, racing into the great hall and asking to speak with him. He looked at the guard that has dared approach him while he dines and yet he listens to him as he tells him of Arya Stark and her escape. He digs his knife into the guard, and throws his still beating heart to the dogs to eat. The command to start the hunt is swiftly responded to and the corpse left to rot with the other one in the cell. A present for Arya the next time she was caught and returned there. He sent the hunts out with the promise of a reward for the ones that brought her back alive and a large fire to put her helper into when they were also found. The first village they had passed through were not willing to help with thier questions until they hung some of their men and a few children to show that answers were required. They hadn't minded the men being killed but seemed to want to spare the child. It's beheadment was a warning and ignoring the wails, they began to follow the road that lead off toward the next village.

White Harbor. The port realm was now their next destination. Having run northward in hastened flight, they had need to return from whence they had come. The prospect was not one of pleasing circumstance for doing so would place them in proximal tenure of Greyjoy's pursuit. First south and then east. There stood no other option. Advantage lay in the unanticipated for such a turnabout would be last considered by those who'd been sent to seek them out. "South." He offered no further word, but turned and began the perilous trek. They passed in and out of bands of mist, feeling its freezing damp talons clawing their faces. The ancient trees were dark in their menacing silence, the ground frozen and treacherous beneath their traverse. A faint crack in the distance caught Jaqen's attention. It was a sharp-edged sound as if some rotten bough had been harshly snapped. In its wake came an unseemly rustling. He motioned to Arya, indicating that she should stay close, then began to move toward the resonant tumult. One more step and there was something at the limit of his sight ...

She kept close to his side, listening and looking about constantly. Trying to move as he moved, walk as he walked. Learning as she went with him, and at times leading him through the bramble and brush. It was blistering cold and getting still colder. She never remembered it being this cold before, as she huddled in her coat to keep warm but trying to appear that she was fine. She did not like the idea of turning back, but knew they had no choice in the matter so she followed Jaqen, fading in and out of the dark forests hold like wraiths through a mist. She just prayed their luck would hold out. Tensing the second he did, hearing the sound of the branch snapping, did she freeze like a mouse being hunted by a cat, all her senses went into overdrive. She stayed close to Jaqens side as they made their way to investigate the sounds, nearly bumping into him when he stopped suddenly. She looked up at him, but he seemed focused on what was ahead of them, so she slowly peeked out from behind him and instantly wished she hadn't. Bodies littered the trees. Men, a few women, even two children...all from the village they were silently passing by. She felt her anger flare up and knew instantly who was responsible for this. The Greyjoy would pay, and would pay dearly! She turned to avert her eyes from the sight of carnage, when a body, swinging lightly in the wind like a windchime caught her attention. Forgetting herself entirely, she started to walk out of the woods towards it. Stopping just short of giving them both away, did she look up at the body from the safety of the treeline and felt part of her soul break. her childhood friend swayed lightly from his rope, stirring her to intense sadness and great pain. She could do nothing for a moment but stare, until sound of snow dropping to the ground caught her attention and pulled her back into herself, where she promtly squashed any and all feelings and emotions. Turning to look back at Jaqen, her face expressionless, did she glance back to the half burned village before going back to stand at his side and in a soft voice did she speak, though trying to hide the pain that still lingered.

"A Man could find weapons here. This village was once known for its Smithy." She casts her eyes up to meet his own. "A Girl could find food for them, what they have not taken, destroyed or eaten. A Girl is sure these people will not mind. The Gods take what is theirs and their troubles are over. A Girl and a Man will not get far without food nor steel. A Girl says it will not hurt to look over the ruins and take what they can find. Respect can be paid later.." She looks away, trying to look anywhere but the bodies hanging upon the trees nor the smoke that still rises from the castle.

The villager had willingly offered his prized hunting dogs for the chase of hunting for Arya. The idea of seeing his son burnt alive had been something of a motivation or sounds of the child screaming as his feet were roasted over a hot fire for starts . Either way the dogs had quickly picked up the smell of her from the clothing item she had left behind and were swiftly moving toward their prey. We stopped to relieve ourselves and at that time a conversation began. Guards that were with me on the hunt began to say that it was not likely that the girl would have passed this way as it would have brought her too close to the house again and their ide was that she would have made for the north harbour. It was small and only used by fishing vessels but she could have gone that way. The man with the dogs insisted that the dogs were tracking properly and that they were close to their target as they were restless and wanted to carry on. A guard exclaimed,"Them's hunting dogs! They could have been tracking deer for all we know and we are close to the animals that they have been tracking!"

Theon found himself considering what Arya may have done and decided to split the party. 5 would go with the dogs and dog owner and 10 with him to check the north fishing harbour. He made sure the guard realized that hanging in a cage waiting to die while the birds ate his flesh that had been burnt to make it more tasty for them would be his fate if he was taking us the wrong way! He watched the dogs start to move swiftly and silently away. He had the feeling he would be watching a guard screaming as hot metal seared his private flesh and his skin was seared from his body.

The village was not as Jaqen had remembered it when they'd passed it on their escape. Most of the farm buildings on the outskirts were intact, although they had an abandoned air and a feel of incipient decay. There were no people to be seen, no smoke rising from the chimneys. It was a hollow landscape. As they entered into the village itself the scent of wet burned wood filled his nostrils. Gutted skeletons were all that remained of the many houses. A charred, black-crusted arm reached out toward the road from across a threshold. A single white sheet, stained by smoke, hung soddenly from an open window. A buzzard sat upon the remnants of roof timber watching them go by with its head cocked to one side. They wove their way through the streets drawing ever closer to the square. The buildings that had once lined the southern side of the market were gone, reduced to piles of blackened debris. One of the fires must have been started there. A lone banner hung limply from a charred fence post - a golden kraken boldly emblazoned upon a black background. "Greyjoy." The name crossed Jaqen's lips with instant disdain.

"A man has enough steel and food can be found as we travel. Theon has made it clear that he gives no care for life beyond a girl's. See what he has done with reckless abandon? These deaths are as much our fault as his. Innocents burned and for what? Our freedom?" If he'd meant to lay guilt he had done so quite well. "He makes of us murderers in all of this killing. A man would prefer fighting to being such cause." He crouched down before her, hands on her shoulders. "What says a girl? Do we keep running or face him together?"

walking among the now dead city, Arya looked about and was almost overcome with intense sadness. She felt a deep, black rage overcome her before she could control it. This was not the village she remembered from her youth! The paths she traversed on were now muddied and puddles of blood and ash littered the area. The houses no longer stood proudly, flying their many flags and banners, but were nothing more then charred wood and billowing smoke. She didn't know which was worse, seeing her friends and relations hanging in the forest or the sad remnants of the most favored village in the North? Seeing the Greyjoy flag hanging from a charred fence post, she went cold inside. Everything screamed at her for revenge, to make the man and his men who did this pay. She knew he would not stop until he got ahold of her. He would keep killing and ransacking villages to achieve his goal. Wed a Starrk and claim Winterfell as his own. She would die before that happened...she turned her eyes to Jaqens, letting him see the fire within them, the hate and pain that she hid so well now and placed her hands upon his own. In a steely voice of barely contained rage did she whisper. "Together..."

The hounds with the few guards still with them began to quicken their pace as they came back toward the village. One guard cursed and said that the escapers must have gone North like was suggested as the stupid dogs were going home rather than hunt! The dogs speed began to increase and soon the began to run into the edge of the village. The dogs slowed and looked round but then continued racing after their prey and the scent was fresh now and spurred them on faster. The guards were hard pushed to keep up.

Greyjoy was not pleased to have ridden north for nothing and the guard that had suggested the trip north was being dragged naked behind his horse and slowly dying from the battering and injuries. He spurred the horse on faster and faster in a hurry to catch up with the escaped girl before she could get help or elude him further. He cut the naked battered corpse free so that he could go faster and the following horses trampled the body as they raced after Greyjoy. Time had been wasted. The horses raced ahead and let the foot guards run after them to catch up as and when they could. The village where the dogs had come from wasn't too far ahead and Greyjoy hoped the guards had captured the girl. They would die otherwise!

The sound of surrounding hounds captured his attention away from her whisper. He reached over his shoulder and unsheathed his sword. A blade now in hand, rage ruled his composure. Westeros would not lay the blame of dead innocents upon Arya. Nor would they label her craven for running. The Lannisters would love nothing more than that pleasure. However, neither would he let her be taken to wife by the kraken! If any would have her, it would be he. The wind moaned without pause over and through the skeletal city. The two said nothing to each other as they stood steadfastly waiting.

She heard the baying of the dogs upon the wind and feels the fire within her flame to nearly out of control! She had to get a hold of herself, quiet her emotions. Not having a clear head was a bad way to be when facing down many odds. She turned, looking towards the forest, hearing the ever closer baying of the hounds and found herself not afraid. True, her heart was racing, so loudly she was sure Jaqen could hear it, but outside, she appeared calm. Pulling her dagger from its sheath did she stand by his side, waiting for whatever was to come. Winterfell had been taken, her family dead, she would be dead before she married an Ironborn! No one controlled her fate, or so she let herself believe. Casting only a glance up at Jaqen, before turning her attention back to the woods, waiting.