Wondering if she's so drunk she's hallucinating, it's hard not to just plop down and sit in the snow again. But she's finally starting to feel that cold, just a bit, through the warm-blooded haze of the wine.

Which, naturally, means she needs more wine. But even a drunk queen isn't about to go searching for a tavern. She has that much dignity left.

"Lady Arya..." It's hard to be scrutinizing in this state, but somehow she still manages. "You conduct yourself queerly. Not at all like your mother, who has shown me nothing but the greatest respect while still sharing her own opinions. Did she not teach you these skills? How is it she decided to let her daughter have a wolf rather than a dog?"