[ and she takes her task so seriously! with a drawn expression, she turns to the tree. she lifts her arm...! and (after a moment and after stiles's actions resolve themselves in her understanding) she shrieks, twisting suddenly back to face him. water -- unnaturally cold due to its magical source -- drips down the collar of her stiff dress. ] Y-you...!
[ for a moment she looks hurt. as if she had only anticipated that stiles could be her ally, and not an impish traitor. but with the balloon in hand, she feels a stirring of her old life upon her: of snowball fights in winterfell's great shadow.
and so as easily as she might have thrown a ball of snow at arya, she hurls the light pink water-balloon. for the barest moment, a flicker of genuine effort and competition appears in her expression. give her three seconds and she'll be inconsolably apologetic -- but for now? she tries to hit him. ]
no subject
[ for a moment she looks hurt. as if she had only anticipated that stiles could be her ally, and not an impish traitor. but with the balloon in hand, she feels a stirring of her old life upon her: of snowball fights in winterfell's great shadow.
and so as easily as she might have thrown a ball of snow at arya, she hurls the light pink water-balloon. for the barest moment, a flicker of genuine effort and competition appears in her expression. give her three seconds and she'll be inconsolably apologetic -- but for now? she tries to hit him. ]