Needle glinted as she drew it. Polliver had kept it nice and sharp, at least. She turned her body sideways in a water dancer’s stance without even thinking about it. Dead leaves crunched beneath her feet. Quick as a snake, she thought. Smooth as summer silk.

His eyes opened. “You remember where the heart is?”

drunkcrap:

“At least you look at my face. I’ll give you that, you little she-wolf. How do you like it?”
“I don’t. It’s all burned and ugly.”

I love that these two are such dicks to each other, punctuated by the occasional courtesy. 

They broke their fast in silence until the Hound said
“This thing about your Mother…”
“It doesn’t matter.” Arya said in a dull voice “I know she’s dead, I saw her in a dream.”
The Hound looked at her a long time, then nodded. No more was said of it.