[Mercy doesn't worry about unreadable looks: she answers with a sweet smile, while Arya's gray eyes try to read what she cannot. There is a chord of familiarity here, sharp and sweet, and she rises from her crouch slowly.]
Hello, [she offers, easy and uncertain at once. Mercy would be scared. Mercy would be frightened to not know where she is. But Arya is not afraid, and Arya needs to learn new things.]
Do I know you? [Some of the sweetness slips, and that's all right. Arya allows it. She is too familiar not to pursue.]
no subject
Hello, [she offers, easy and uncertain at once. Mercy would be scared. Mercy would be frightened to not know where she is. But Arya is not afraid, and Arya needs to learn new things.]
Do I know you? [Some of the sweetness slips, and that's all right. Arya allows it. She is too familiar not to pursue.]