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A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Arya Stark and her Cinderella Motifs

In A Song of Ice and Fire, GRRM often uses fairy tale motifs to help tell a character’s story.  Sometimes this motif spans all throughout the characters arc while other times it will only be used for one or two scenes, or anywhere in between.  And often one character can have several fairy tale motifs at different times in their arcs or even running concurrently.  For Arya, she has quite a few fairy tale motifs in her arc, but for now I’m going to focus on her Cinderella motifs that are mainly prevalent in A Clash of Kings but do show up at other times all throughout her arc as well. I’m going to focus primarily on Arya’s A Clash of Kings arc, but we will be stopping by A Storm of Swords and A Feast for Crows a few times too.  And I am going to use several versions of the retellings of Cinderella, including the Disney version, but only the 1950 original and none of its sequels.  I also want to note that not all the parallels are obvious due to things being more metaphorical or symbolic, while other times being whatever subversion that tickled GRRM’s fancy at the time.

There are many common aspects across the board when it comes to Cinderella retellings.  Often it entails the heroine losing one or both of her parents, being oppressed by her abusive stepmother and stepsisters and being forced into menial, backbreaking labor that leaves the heroine dirty and often covered in ashes.  It usually entails a magical guardian who helps the heroine, magical transformations, ballgowns and a ball where she falls in love with either a Prince or a King. An identifying item is also involved, usually a slipper made of gold or glass, where one of the pair is lost when the heroine is running from her beloved.  And the Prince/King almost always searches the realm for the woman that identifying item belongs to, and when he finds the heroine they usually marry.

Written out like that it’s hard to believe that this is a motif used for Arya.  After all she’s not in the position to be going to balls and she’s just a child so it seems unlikely at the time she’s at Harrenhal she’s going to fall in love.  However, this motif appears all throughout her arc in various and creative and subversive and repetitive ways, and motifs don’t have to be all or none and they don’t have to be in the order the original stories were laid out.  A lot of people also don’t like the idea that Arya has an actual Disney Princess motif in her story because she’s a “tomboy”, but the fact is that Arya is a Princess at the time she’s at Harrenhal, it’s even explicitly stated in Arya X ACOK, whether people acknowledge it or not, where a lot of these motifs take place.  I know some people will be dismissive of this and think I’m reaching, but I hope upon reading this I’ll have convinced you of this motif being present. :)

Step-Mother and Step-Sisters

Some of the two most common features in any variant of Cinderella is the “Persecuted Heroine” and the “Female Persecutor”.  Often this manifests as the wicked stepmother and the evil step-sisters, but in some versions a stepmother does not appear, and it’s the heroine’s older sisters who confine her to the kitchens instead.  In the opera, La Cenerentola, Gioachino Rossini inverted the gender roles where the heroine Cenerentola is oppressed by her stepfather.  And in some retellings at least one of the step siblings is somewhat kind to the heroine even.  We symbolically see these archetypes many times in Arya’s narrative with various types of inversions.

When we enter ACOK, we find a dirty and disguised Arya traveling with Yoren and the Night’s Watch recruits, having just lost her father (a subversion of the prevalent theme of Cinderella losing her mother very young).  She is also being bullied by two older boys, Lommy and Hot Pie:

At Winterfell they [Sansa and Jeyne] had called her “Arya Horseface” and she’d thought nothing could be worse, but that was before the orphan boy Lommy Greenhands had named her “Lumpyhead.” - Arya I ACOK

That wasn’t the hardest part at all; Lommy Greenhands and Hot Pie were the hardest part. - Arya I ACOK

“Look at that sword Lumpyhead’s got there,” Lommy said one morning […] “Where’s a gutter rat like Lumpyhead get him a sword?”

[. . .]

“Maybe he’s a little squire,” Hot Pie put in. […] “Some lordy lord’s little squire boy, that’s it.”

“He ain’t no squire, look at him.  I bet that’s not even a real sword.  I bet it’s just some play sword made of tin.”

Arya hated them making fun of Needle.  “It’s castle-forged steel, you stupid,” she snapped, turning in the saddle to glare at them, “and you better shut your mouth.”

The orphan boys hooted.  “Where’d you get a blade like that, Lumpyface?” Hot Pie wanted to know.

“Lumpyhead,” corrected Lommy.  He prob’ly stole it.”

“I did not!” she shouted.  Jon Snow had given her Needle.  Maybe she had to let them call her Lumpyhead, but she wasn’t going to let them call Jon a thief.

“If he stole it, we could take it off him,” said Hot Pie.  “It’s not his anyhow.  I could use me a sword like that.”

Lommy egged him on.  “Go on, take it off him, I dare you.”

Hot Pie kicked his donkey, riding closer.  “Hey, Lumpyface, you gimme that sword.” […] “You don’t know how to use it.”

[. . .]

“Look at him,” brayed Lommy Greenhands.  “I bet he’s going to cry now.  You want to cry, Lumpyhead?” – Arya I ACOK

In the first two quotes we have Arya likening the behavior of Hot Pie and Lommy to that of Jeyne Poole and Sansa. In AGOT, Sansa and Jeyne took on the “evil step-sister” archetype (and before anybody attacks me, I don’t think these two are actually “evil”, just children who think it’s okay to bully someone who is different from them), but now we are shown that this archetype has temporarily shifted onto Lommy and Hot Pie, with some subversions.  These two are now male and they aren’t related to Arya in any way.  Some variants of the Cinderella story do portray male siblings mistreating the younger “Cinderella” sibling though.  One of the stories in One Thousand and One Nights depict a story called “Judar and his Brethren”, in which the main character is poisoned by his biological brothers in the end, depicting a rare tragic ending for this retelling. However, these subversions are completely fine because either way, they took on the role of the “bully” to Arya’s Cinderella archetype currently in the narrative.  

Furthermore, while Septa Mordane was the obvious “wicked stepmother” archetype to Arya’s Cinderella archetype in AGOT, I think arguably this has fallen to Cersei now (and the Lannister’s as a whole).  Cersei may not be present, but she is the reason why Arya is in the situation she is in right now.  After all, Cersei takes on the role of “Evil Queen” for Sansa and Jon (they both share Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs motifs) so I do think she is the metaphorical “wicked stepmother” in this equation regardless of the fact that Cersei isn’t anything remotely close to a stepmother to Arya in the narrative, but she fits the general archetype of “female persecutor” the most in the current situation.  For the case about Septa Mordane being a “wicked stepmother” archetype, I want to point to Cenerentola by Basile, in which the “wicked stepmother” started out as being the heroine’s governess, and Septa’s are the closest substitute to a governess in the universe of ASOIAF.

This isn’t the end to these archetypes being in play.  As the early chapters of ACOK go on we see the animosity between Lommy, Hot Pie, and Arya disappear to the point where they become allies and then friends. With this shift in dynamic we see the archetypes disappearing with some of these same characters taking on entirely new Cinderella archetypes, while the “wicked stepmother” and “evil step-sibling” archetypes move onto other characters as well.

At Harrenhal we are introduced to two wicked women who next take on the “evil step-sibling” archetype, Goodwife Harra and Goodwife Amabel.  These two even comment on Arya’s feet:

When Arya's turn came round, Goodwife Amabel clucked in dismay at the sight of her feet, while Goodwife Harra felt the callus on her fingers that long hours of practice with Needle had earned her. "Got those churning butter, I'll wager," she said. "Some farmer's whelp, are you? Well, never you mind, girl, you have a chance to win a higher place in this world if you work hard. If you won't work hard, you'll be beaten. And what do they call you?"

Arya dared not say her true name, but Arry was no good either, it was a boy’s name and they could see she was no boy.  “Weasel,” she said, naming the first girl she could think of.  “Lommy called me Weasel.”

“I can see why,” sniffed Goodwife Amabel.  “That hair is a fright and a nest for lice as well. We’ll have it off, and then you’re for the kitchens.”

“I’d sooner tend the horses.”  Arya liked horses, and maybe if she was in the stables she’d be able to steal one and escape.

Goodwife Harra slapped her so hard that her swollen lip broke open all over again.  “And keep that tongue to yourself or you’ll get worse.  No one asked your views.”

The blood in her mouth had a salty metal tang to it. Arya dropped her gaze and said nothing. If I still had Needle, she wouldn’t dare hit me, she thought sullenly.

“Lord Tywin and his knights have grooms and squires to tend their horses, they don’t need the likes of you,” Goodwife Amabel said. “The kitchens are snug and clean, and there’s always a warm fire to sleep by and plenty to eat.  You might have done well there, but I can see you’re not a clever girl.  Harra, I believe we should give this one to Weese.”

“If you think so, Amabel.”  They gave her a shift of grey roughspun wool and a pair of ill-fitting shoes and sent her off. – Arya VI ACOK

Later Goodwife Amabel even threatens to rape Arya:

Three Frey men-at-arms were using them that morning as Arya went to the well. She tried not to look, but she could hear the men laughing. The pail was very heavy once full. She was turning to bring it back to Kingspyre when Goodwife Amabel seized her arm. The water went sloshing over the side onto Amabel's legs. "You did that on purpose," the woman screeched.

"What do you want?" Arya squirmed in her grasp. Amabel had been half-crazed since they'd cut Harra's head off.

"See there?" Amabel pointed across the yard at Pia. "When this northman falls you'll be where she is."

"Let me go." She tried to wrench free, but Amabel only tightened her fingers.

"He will fall too, Harrenhal pulls them all down in the end. Lord Tywin's won now, he'll be marching back with all his power, and then it will be his turn to punish the disloyal. And don't think he won't know what you did!" The old woman laughed. "I may have a turn at you myself. Harra had an old broom, I'll save it for you. The handle's cracked and splintery—" - Arya X ACOK

Menial, Backbreaking Labor

When Arya is enslaved and forced into the oppressive walls of Harrenhal, she is forced to scrub floors and do other menial, backbreaking work from sunrise to sunset, just like Cinderella:

Weese used Arya to run messages, draw water, and fetch food, and sometimes to serve at table in the Barracks Hall above the armory, where the men-at-arms took their meals. But most of her work was cleaning. The ground floor of the Wailing Tower was given over to storerooms and granaries, and two floors above housed part of the garrison, but the upper stories had not been occupied for eighty years. Now Lord Tywin had commanded that they be made fit for habitation again. There were floors to be scrubbed, grime to be washed off windows, broken chairs and rotted beds to be carried off. The topmost story was infested with nests of the huge black bats that House Whent had used for its sigil, and there were rats in the cellars as well . . . and ghosts, some said, the spirits of Harren the Black and his sons. – Arya VII ACOK

She spent the rest of that day scrubbing steps inside the Wailing Tower. By evenfall her hands were raw and bleeding and her arms so sore they trembled when she lugged the pail back to the cellar. Too tired even for food, Arya begged Weese's pardons and crawled into her straw to sleep. – Arya VII ACOK

Magical Transformations and Mice

In Disney’s Cinderella, the fairy godmother transforms mice into different creatures.  On the road to Harrenhal, Arya not only likens herself to a sheep, but a mouse and continues her time at Harrenhal referring to herself as a “mouse”.  This is also a subversion, while Cinderella in the Disney incarnation befriends mice, in our story Arya becomes the meek mouse:

On the road Arya had felt like a sheep, but Harrenhal turned her into a mouse.  She was grey as a mouse in her scratchy wool shift, and like a mouse she kept to the crannies and crevices and dark holes of the castle, scurrying out of the way of the mighty. – Arya VII ACOK

He does not know me, she thought.  Arry was a fierce little boy with a sword, and I’m just a grey mouse girl with a pail. – Arya VII ACOK

She was very small and Harrenhal was very large, full of places where a mouse could hide. – Arya VII ACOK

Even Jaqen calls Arya a mouse:

She crept up quiet as a shadow, but he opened his eyes all the same.  “She steals in on little mice feet, but a man hears,” he said.  How could he hear me? She wondered, and it seemed as if he heard that as well.  “The scuff of leather on stone sings loud as warhorns to a man with open ears.  Clever girls go barefoot.” – Arya VIII ACOK

However, through Jaqen, Arya begins to feel more in control of her situation, stronger and is transformed, if only for a short time.

“…Some are saying it was Harren’s ghost flung him down.” He snorted to show what he thought of such notions.

It wasn’t Harren, Arya wanted to say, it was me. She has killed Chiswyck with a whisper, and she would kill two more before she was through.  I’m the ghost in Harrenhal, she thought.  And that night, there was one less name to hate. – Arya VII ACOK

I was a sheep, and then I was a mouse, I couldn’t do anything but hide.  Arya chewed her lip and tried to think when her courage had come back.  Jaqen made me brave again.  He made me a ghost instead of a mouse. – Arya IX ACOK

Lucifer the Cat

In Disney’s Cinderella, Lucifer is Lady Tremaine’s cat who is described as being a sly, wicked, and manipulative mouse consumer.  He spends the whole film trying to torment and catch the mice.  I feel that Weese takes on aspects of this feline character, and I think this because of certain descriptors that are given to Weese to make him appear almost catlike:

“Weasel,” Weese purred, “next time I see that mouth droop open, I’ll pull out your tongue and feed it to my bitch.” – Arya VII ACOK

In his own small strutting way, Weese was nearly as scary as Ser Gregor.  The Mountain swatted men like flies, but most of the time he did not even seem to know the fly was there.  Weese always knew you were there, and what you were doing, and sometimes what you were thinking.  He would hit at the slightest provocation, and he had a dog who was near as bad as he was, an ugly spotted bitch that smelled worse than any dog Arya had ever known. Once she saw him set the dog on a latrine boy who’d annoyed him.  She tore a big chunk out of the boy’s calf while Weese laughed. – Arya VII ACOK

So here we have Weese purring, strutting, being compared to the Mountain who swats at peoples, and being watchful and observant, very much like a cat.  And like in the movie, a dog attacks him.  Now Weese didn’t fall from a tower window, but Chiswyck fell/was pushed. Considering these two are the two people Arya had Jaqen kill, I wouldn’t be surprised if they are meant to make up two halves of a whole in this regard.  After all, they are both wicked creatures who prey upon the weak, just like Lucifer and they both got their just desserts for it.

Jaq the Mouse

In Disney’s Cinderella, Cinderella rescues mice from traps, as well as from Lucifer, and dresses and feeds them.  They perform favors in return.  At the beginning of the film, a mouse named Gus is trapped in a cage, and the leader of the mice finds him and retrieves Cinderella to free him.  The leader of the mice is a mouse named Jaq, and he was also a mouse that was saved by Cinderella from a cage.  This sounds awfully familiar…

Rushing through the barn doors was like running into a furnace.  The air was swirling with smoke, the back wall a sheet of fire ground to roof. Their horses and donkeys were kicking and rearing and screaming.  The poor animals, Arya thought.  Then she saw the wagon, and the three men manacled to its bed.  Biter was flinging himself against the chains, blood running down his arms from where the iron clasped his wrists.  Rorge screamed curses, kicking at the wood.  “Boy!” called Jaqen H’ghar.  “Sweet boy!”

[. . .]

“Good boys, kind boys,” called Jaqen H’ghar, coughing.

“Get these fucking chains off!” Rorge screamed.

[. . .]

Going back into that barn was the hardest thing she ever did.  Smoke was pouring out the open door like a writhing black snake, and she could hear the screams of the poor animals inside, donkeys and horses and men.  She chewed her lip, and darted through the doors, crouched low where the smoke wasn’t quite so thick.

A donkey was caught in a ring of fire, shrieking in terror and pain.  She could smell the stench of burning hair.  The roof was gone up too, and things were falling down, pieces of flaming wood and bits of straw and hay.  Arya put a hand over her mouth and nose.  She couldn’t see the wagon for the smoke, but she could still hear Biter screaming.  She crawled toward the sound.

And then a wheel was looming over her.  The wagon jumped and moved a half foot when Biter threw himself against his chains again.  Jaqen saw her, but it was too hard to breathe, let alone talk.  She threw the axe into the wagon.  Rorge caught it and lifted it over his head, rivers of sooty sweat pouring down his noseless face.  Arya was running, coughing.  She heard the steel crash through the old wood, and again, again. An instant later came a crack as loud as thunder, and the bottom of the wagon came ripping loose in an explosion of splinters. – Arya IV ACOK

So here we have Jaq who is leader of the mice, who also helps Cinderella by doing her favors.  Then we have Jaqen H’ghar who is the leader of Rorge and Biter (this name seems even more fitting now) and who is performing favors for Arya, which leads me to Jaqen’s dual Cinderella archetype: Fairy Godmother.

Magical Helpers

Some versions of Magical Helpers come from fairy godmothers or talking animals or genies.  In other versions this help comes to the heroine through her dead mother, often manifesting through animal aid.  In One Thousand and One Nights, in the story of “Judar and his Brethren” Judar is our Cinderella figure, whose own brothers betray and poison him, but before that he was gifted a genie named Al-Ra’ad al-Kasif who granted Judar’s wishes.  In the passage below Jaqen grants Arya three “wishes” which is typical for genies to grant in our popular consciousness:

She remembered that she hated him.  “You scared me.  You’re one of them now, I should have let you burn.  What are you doing here?  Go away or I’ll yell for Weese.”

“A man pays his debts.  A man owes three.”

“Three?”

“The Red God has his due, sweet girl, and only death may pay for life.  This girl took three that were his.  This girl must give three in their places.  Speak the names, and a man will do the rest.”

He wants to help me, Arya realized with a rush of hope that made her dizzy.  “Take me to Riverrun, it’s not far, if we stole some horses we could—”

He laid a finger on her lips.  “Three lives you shall have of me.  No more, no less.  Three and we are done.  So a girl must ponder.”  He kissed her hair softly.  “But not too long.” – Arya VII ACOK

Later, we also see that “wishes” have consequences, which is also prevalent when genies are concerned.  GRRM himself is a big fan of consequences and unintended side effects.  

Jaqen is not Arya’s only form of Magical Help at Harrenhal however.  Jaqen may take on the role of Fairy Godmother/Genie, but we also see Arya experiencing the help of not only an animal aid, but from a dead parent.  For instance, the heroine in Aschenputtel, by the Brother’s Grimm, is given a hazel twig by her father that she plants over her mother’s grave.  She waters it with tears and over the years it grows into a glowing hazel tree.  The girl prays under it three times a day, chanting, and a bird emerges from it that grants her wishes.  There are two instances of something similar happening in the books:

In the godswood she found her broomstick sword where she had left it, and carried it to the heart tree.  There she knelt.  Red leaves rustled.  Red eyes peered inside her.  The eyes of the gods.  “Tell me what to do, you gods,” she prayed.

For a long moment there was no sound but the wind and the water and the creak of leaf and limb.  And then, far far off, beyond the godswood and the haunted towers and the immense stone walls of Harrenhal, from somewhere out in the world, came the long lonely howl of a wolf.  Gooseprickles rose on Arya’s skin, and for an instant she felt dizzy.  Then, so faintly, it seemed as if she heard her father’s voice.  “When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives,” he said.

“But there is no pack,” she whispered to the weirwood.  Bran and Rickon were dead, the Lannisters had Sansa, Jon had gone to the Wall.  “I’m not even me now, I’m Nan.”

“You are Arya of Winterfell, daughter of the north. You told me you could be strong.  You have the wolf blood in you.”

“The wolf blood.”  Arya remembered now.  “I’ll be as strong as Robb.  I said I would.”  She took a deep breath, then lifted the broomstick in both hands and brought it down across her knee.  It broke with a loud crack, and she threw the pieces aside.  I am a direwolf, and done with wooden teeth. – Arya X ACOK

Here we see an inversion. Arya’s mother isn’t dead at this time, but her father, Ned is.  He is who we hear through the heart tree giving Arya this empowering “Mufasa” moment that gives way to Arya’s true transformation in this arc, she reclaims her identity.  And as soon as Arya asks the old gods for aid, a wolf howls in the distance as if in answer.  It’s not confirmed but I do truly believe that this howl came from Nymeria, by way of the Old Gods/Greenseers, who somehow helped strengthen their bond.  It is after this moment that Arya starts having full on wolf dreams in earnest and it’s through her first wolf dream that we see that Nymeria may have become Arya’s animal aid:

Her dreams were red and savage.  The Mummers were in them, four at least, a pale Lyseni and a dark brutal axeman from Ib, the scarred Dothraki horse lord called Iggo and a Dornishman whose name she never knew.  On and on they came, riding through the rain in rusting mail and wet leather, swords and axe clanking against their saddles.  They thought they were hunting her, she knew with all the strange sharp certainty of dreams, but they were wrong.  She was hunting them.

She was no little girl in the dream; she was a wolf, huge and powerful, and when she emerged from beneath the trees in front of them and bared her teeth in a low rumbling growl, she could small the rank stench of fear from horse and man alike.  The Lyseni’s mount reared and screamed in terror, and the others shouted at one another in mantalk, but before they could act the other wolves came hurtling from the darkness and the rain, a great pack of them, gaunt and wet and silent.

The fight was short but bloody.  The hairy man went down as he unslung his axe, the dark one died stringing an arrow, and the pale man from Lys tried to bolt.  Her brothers and sisters ran him down, turning him again and again, coming at him from all sides, snapping at the legs of his horse and tearing the throat from the rider when he came crashing to the earth. – Arya I ASOS

We see here that Nymeria and her pack protected Arya, Gendry, and Hot Pie against their pursuers after their escape from Harrenhal.

Here is another instance of Arya praying under the heart tree:

Arya went to her knees.  She wasn’t sure how she should begin.  She clasped her hands together.  Help me, you old gods, she prayed silently.  Help me get those men out of the dungeon so we can kill Ser Amory, and bring me home to Winterfell.  Make me a water dancer and a wolf and not afraid again, ever.

Was that enough?  Maybe she should pray aloud if she wanted the old gods to hear.  Maybe she should pray longer.  Sometimes her father had prayed a long time, she remembered. But the old gods had never helped him. Remembering that made her angry. “You should have saved him,” she scolded the tree.  “He prayed to you all the time.  I don’t care if you help me or not.  I don’t think you could even if you wanted to.”

“Gods are not mocked, girl.”

The voice startled her.  She leapt to her feet and drew her wooden sword.  Jaqen H’ghar stood so still in the darkness that he seemed one of the trees.  “A man comes to hear a name.  One and two and then comes three.  A man would have done.”

Arya lowered the splintery point toward the ground. “How did you know I was here?”

“A man sees.  A mean hears.  A man knows.”

She regarded him suspiciously.  Had the gods sent him?  “How’d you make the dog kill Weese?  Did you call Rorge and Biter up from hell?  Is Jaqen H’ghar your true name?

“Some men have many names.  Weasel.  Arry. Arya.”

She backed away from him, until she was pressed against the heart tree.  “Did Gendry tell?”

“A man knows,” he said again.  “My lady of Stark.”

Maybe the gods had sent him in answer to her prayers. – Arya IX ACOK

In Cenerentola, the heroine’s (Zezolla) father is given a date seedling by a fairy and he gives it to his daughter.  Zezolla cultivates the tree in which a fairy lives.  This fairy gives Zezolla magical aid.  When Arya prayed beneath the heart tree in the above quote it almost seems like Jaqen appeared from the trees, leaving Arya to question if the old gods sent him.

And like in Aschenputtel and Disney’s Cinderella, Arya spends time at Harrenhal singing/chanting to herself as well:

Barefoot surefoot lightfoot, she sang under her breath. I am the ghost in Harrenhal. – Arya IX ACOK

This is very strange for a couple of reasons.  When we first meet Arya she claims not to like songs and doesn’t sing.  She continues this up until she goes to Braavos. There she discovers that she likes the bawdy songs when she is using the name, Cat of the Canals.  The only exception to this is when Arya is at Harrenhal. Another reason this is odd is because of where Arya is at physically and mentally.  So either Arya was always lying about not liking songs, or Arya singing here is supposed to tell us something.

And while this might not mean anything, I found it interesting that Arya spends a lot of her time in ACOK barefoot.  Now Cinderella isn’t really said to be barefoot in the stories, but she did usually lose a shoe when running away from the Prince/King, hence making her barefoot. When Arya decides to escape Harrenhal, she does don a pair of shoes again and from then on out she mostly wears them.  This also leads to a fun bit of subversion.  In the originals tales it’s always the Prince/King saving Cinderella from further oppression.  But in Arya X ACOK, not only did she (a princess) plan the escape, but she saves Gendry, a lost (albeit bastard) prince, along with Hot Pie, from further oppression (and torture and death) by their slavers in their prison camp.  (Hot Pie definitely reminds me of Gus Gus as well by the way :D)

From Rags to Riches

In many versions of Cinderella, we also see the heroine become physically transformed.  The heroine is usually dirty, covered in ashes, and wearing “rags” before they are made over.  In the most popular version, Disney’s Cinderella, the Fairy Godmother magically turns her from dirty household servant to highborn lady, adorning her in a silver ballgown and glass slippers.  In Ye Xian, magical fish bones, help the heroine dress appropriately for a local Festival, including a light, golden shoe.  And in Aschenputtel, the doves that emerge from her hazel tree, that grant the heroine wishes, drop a gold and silver gown and silk shoes down to her to wear to the ball.  Also, noticeably, this is the time the Prince/King notices Cinderella and finally “sees” her.

While we didn’t get anything like that in ACOK, we don’t have to look much farther than ASOS, when Arya goes to Acorn Hall and meets Lady Smallwood, who puts her in two different dresses:

And afterward, they insisted she dress herself in girl’s things, brown woolen stockings and a light linen shift, and over that a light green gown with acorns embroidered all over the bodice in brown thread, and more acorns bordering the hem. – Arya IV ASOS

It was even worse than before; Lady Smallwood insisted that Arya take another bath, and cut and comb her hair besides; the dress she put her in this time was sort of lilac-colored, and decorated with little baby pearls.  The only good thing about it was that it was so delicate that no one could expect her to ride in it. – Arya IV ASOS

And while there is no ball, Arya and Gendry spend their time in the forge together.  This is the very first time Gendry has seen Arya look like a proper lady.  Cinderella and Arya are no longer dirty and in rags and they are now in gowns looking their place in society, despite Arya’s dress not being nearly as grand.  However, it’s enough of a change for Gendry to finally realize just who Arya truly is when it comes to her place in the world.  And judging by his behavior after this event, he also begins to acknowledge that if he continues to stay by her side he could potentially love her romantically in the future as well:  

Gendry reached out with the tongs as if to pinch her face, but Arya swatted them away.

[. . .]

Gendry put the hammer down and looked at her.  “You look different now.  Like a proper little girl.”

“I look like an oak tree, with all these stupid acorns.”

“Nice, though.  A nice oak tree.”  He stepped closer, and sniffed at her.  “You even smell nice for a change.” – Arya IV ASOS

Runaway Princess

Now we may not have had a ball, but while taking shelter in a stone stable with the Brotherhood Without Banners, Arya does run outside, trying to get away from everyone:

His words beat at her ears like the pounding of a drum, and suddenly it was more than Arya could stand.  She wanted Riverrun, not Acorn Hall; she wanted her mother and her brother Robb, not Lady Smallwood or some uncle she never knew.  Whirling, she broke for the door, and when Harwin tried to grab her arm she spun away from him quick as a snake.

Outside the stables the rain was still falling, and distant lightning flashed in the west.  Arya ran as fast as she could.  She did not know where she was going, only that she wanted to be alone, away from all the voices, away from their hollow words and broken promises.  All I wanted was to go to Riverrun.  It was her own fault, for taking Gendry and Hot Pie with her when she left Harrenhal.  She would have been better alone.  If she had been alone, the outlaws would never have caught her, and she’d be with Robb and her mother by now.  They were never my pack.  If they had been, they wouldn’t leave me.  She splashed through a puddle of muddy water.  Someone was shouting her name, Harwin probably, or Gendry, but the thunder drowned them out as it rolled across the hills half a heartbeat behind the lightning.  The lightning lord, she thought angrily.  Maybe he couldn’t die, but he could lie. – Arya VIII ASOS

Now it’s not explicitly clear that it was Gendry who ran after Arya, calling her name, but due to the possible symbolism in the scene, and also his behavior in AFFC, it makes me think it was him.  But whether he was or not I believe just Arya believing it might be him makes this applicable enough as a loose parallel for the Prince chasing after Cinderella, only for Cinderella to disappear like in many of the Cinderella retellings.  

Searching the Realm

At the end of ASOS in the epilogue we learn that Lady Stoneheart and the Brotherhood Without Banners, who Gendry is a part of is actively searching for Arya:

The outlaw gave him (Merrett Frey) an encouraging smile. “Well, as it happens, we’re looking for a dog that ran away.”

“A dog?” Merrett was lost.  “What kind of dog?”

“He answers to the name Sandor Clegane […] Did you see him at the wedding, perchance?”

[. . .]

“He would have had a child with him,” said the singer.  “A skinny girl, about ten.  Or perhaps a boy the same age.”

“I don’t think so,” said Merrett.  “Not that I knew.” – Epilogue ASOS

In many retellings of the Cinderella story, the Prince/King searches the realm looking for the heroine with an identifying item, and typically that item is a shoe of some sort.  Once the shoe is placed on the heroine’s foot it symbolically means the heroine is reclaiming her identity.  Arya, however, didn’t lose a shoe, and I’d argue that when Ned/the Old Gods/the Greenseers spoke to Arya through the heart tree, empowering Arya, that’s when Arya reclaimed her identity, at least for that time as Arya must reclaim her identity multiple times in her arc.  I’d argue that Arya’s connection to the North and her family is her overall identifying item. But I fully believe Gendry himself might be another “identifying item,” along with him still taking on the archetypal role of “prince”.

Why do I say this? Because in AFFC Gendry is stationed at one of the last known places Arya was sighted at with the Hound, the Crossroads Inn, where he is blacksmithing while also helping to look after orphans. He was likely stationed there by Lady Stoneheart and the Brotherhood Without Banners because he knew Arya the best out of everyone (remember LSH would probably have a hard time recognizing Arya after two plus years and a resurrection).  So if she returned, he would not only have a better chance at recognizing her, but also possibly a better chance at keeping her there compared to anyone else.  If people are doubting that this is Gendry’s role, just remember that the BWB is actively looking for Arya, and also note Gendry’s personality shift post-ASOS. Gendry has always been rude and moody, but in AFFC it has been taken to the extreme.  He is absolutely furious and instead of being just plain rude, he’s actually become mean and more violent.  He also seems to have something against the Hound now, someone who he previously had nothing against during the Hound’s trial by combat earlier in ASOS:

…The boy came and stood beside her, his hammer in his hand.

Lightning cracked to the south as the riders swung down off their horses.  For half a heartbeat darkness turned to day.  An axe gleamed silvery blue, light shimmered off mail and plate, and beneath the dark hood of the lead rider Brienne glimpsed an iron snout and rows of steel teeth, snarling.

Gendry saw it too.  “Him.”

“Not him.  His helm.” Brienne tried to keep the fear from her voice, but her mouth was dry as dust. – Brienne VII AFFC

That “him” was very pointed and because of the symbolism in the scene surrounding that “him” and the overall change in Gendry’s behavior I definitely take it to mean Gendry does have a problem with the Hound now.  So what changed?  The Hound kidnapped Arya.  I think it’s safe to say that Gendry is just as invested as the rest of the BWB, if not more so, to finding Arya again, hence making him the “prince” searching the realm for his lost Cinderella.

A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes

In Disney’s Cinderella, songs like “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo”, “So This Is Love”, “Cinderella”, “A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes”, “Oh, Sing Sweet Nightingale”, and “The Work Song” are included into the film.  This isn’t the first time we’ve seen something like this in the previous retellings however.  Like I mentioned earlier the Brother’s Grimm, Aschenputtel, features this as well to some extant.  In Aschenputtel, the heroine would “sing a chant” to call upon the white doves that came from her glowing hazel tree.  These birds would help her grant wishes and help her complete tasks, and it was most likely the inspiration for why birds were included in the Disney version, although birds have featured in more than just Aschenputtel.  I mention this because GRRM wrote Arya a song in the novels:

“My featherbed is deep and soft,

and there I'll lay you down,

I'll dress you all in yellow silk,

and on your head a crown.

For you shall be my lady love,

and I shall be your lord.

I'll always keep you warm and safe,

and guard you with my sword.

 “And how she smiled and how she laughed,

the maiden of the tree.

She spun away and said to him,

no featherbed for me.

I'll wear a gown of golden leaves,

and bind my hair with grass,

But you can be my forest love,

and me your forest lass.”

This is very clearly a love song also and we know it’s most likely about Arya and her foreshadowing a possible future relationship with Gendry.  And it’s very clearly about them as Gendry is a bastard Baratheon “prince”, hence the mentions of “yellow silk” and a “crown”, and also because Arya quite literally is dressed as an oak tree at this time and almost a maiden and will be a maiden when they reunite later in the series.  We also know the song is meant to foreshadow them because of the context.  Tom O’Seven’s specifically winked at Arya as he sang this song, and after the song was sung Lady Smallwood, when taking Arya to get changed into a different dress, said to Arya, “I have no gowns of leaves,” which further tells the readers that this song is Arya’s song, her future love song.

A Mother’s Legacy

In the Magical Helpers section above I mentioned that a dead parent may be the one to help the heroine instead of the typical fairy godmother, by either sending an animal to aid the heroine and/or granting wishes, or by the heroine’s mother transforming into an animal.  In some Greek versions, in “the Balkan-Slavonic tradition of the tale”, and in some Central Asian variants, the heroine’s mother comes back as a cow who is then killed by the heroine’s sisters.  The heroine eventually gathers the bones and from her mother’s grave the heroine is gifted wonderful dresses.  In other variants, the heroine’s dead mother comes back as a fish or a female dog. These animals represent the heroine’s mother’s legacy.

Jon chuckled. “Perhaps you should do the same thing, little sister.  Wed Tully to Stark in your arms.”

“A wolf with a fish in its mouth?” It made her laugh.  “That would look silly…” – Arya I AGOT

That night she went to sleep thinking of her mother, and wondering if she should kill the Hound in his sleep and rescue Lady Catelyn herself.  When she closed her eyes she saw her mother’s face against the back of her eyelids.  She’s so close I could almost smell her…

…and then she could smell her.  The scent was faint beneath the other smells, beneath moss and mud and water, and the stench of rotting reeds and rotting men.  She padded slowly through the soft ground to the river’s edge, lapped up a drink, then lifted her head to sniff.  The sky was grey and thick with cloud, the river green and full of floating things.  Dead men clogged the shallows, some still moving as the water pushed them, others washed up on the banks.  Her brothers and sisters swarmed around them, tearing at the rich ripe flesh.

[. . .]

The scent was stronger now [. . .] Only the scent mattered.  She sniffed the air again.  There it was, and now she saw it too, something pale and white drifting down the river, turning where it brushed against a snag.  The reeds bowed down before it.

She splashed noisily through the shallows and threw herself into the deeper water, her legs churning.  The current was strong but she was stronger.  She swam, following her nose.  The river smells were rich and wet, but those were not the smells that pulled her.  She paddled after the sharp red whisper of cold blood, the sweet cloying stench of death.  She chased them as she had often chased a red deer through the trees, and in the end she ran them down, and her jaw closed around a pale white arm.  She shook it to make it move, but there was only death and blood in her mouth.  By now she was tiring, and it was all she could do to pull the body back to shore. As she dragged it up the muddy bank, one of her little brothers came prowling, his tongue lolling from his mouth. She had to snarl to drive him off, or else he would have fed.  Only then did she stop to shake the water from her fur.  The white thing lay facedown in the mud, her dead flesh wrinkled and pale, cold blood trickling from her throat.  Rise, she thought.  Rise and eat and run with us. – Arya XII ASOS

“So you sewed his head on Robb Stark’s neck after both o’ them were dead,” said yellow cloak.

“My [Merrett Frey] father did that [. . .] I only drank some wine…you have no witness.”

“As it happens, you’re wrong there.”  The singer turned to the hooded woman.  “Milady?”

The outlaws parted as she came forward, saying no word.  When she lowered her hood, something tightened inside Merrett’s chest, and for a moment he could not breathe.  No.  No, I saw her die.  She was dead for a day and night before they stripped her naked and threw her body in the river.  Raymund opened her throat from ear to ear.  She was dead.

Her cloak and collar hid the gash his brother’s blade had made, but her face was even worse than he remembered.  The flesh had gone pudding soft in the water and turned the color of curdled milk. Half her hair was gone and the rest had turned as white and brittle as a crone’s.  Beneath her ravaged scalp, her face was shredded skin and black blood where she had raked herself with her nails.  But her eyes were the most terrible thing.  Her eyes saw him, and they hated.

“She don’t speak,” said the big man in the yellow cloak.  “You bloody bastards cut her throat too deep for that.  But she remembers.”  He turned to the dead woman and said, “What do you say, m’lady?  Was he part of it?”

Lady Catelyn’s eyes never left him.  She nodded. – Epilogue ASOS

In the Chinese retelling of Cinderella, Ye Xian, the heroine befriends a fish, which is the reincarnation of her deceased mother.  In The Story of Tam and Cam, a Vietnamese version, the heroine Tam also had a fish which was killed by the stepmother and the half-sister, and its bones also give her clothes.  And a typical scene in Kapmalaien tales is the mother becoming a fish, being eaten in fish form, the daughter burying her bones and a tree sprouting from her grave.

So not only is Lady Catelyn a symbolic fish, a daughter of House Tully, but she’s also been resurrected (reincarnated), and is looking specifically for our heroine, Arya, who I believe will be gifted several various things (both good and bad) by this incarnation of her mother, but we shall see if the parallel continues when TWOW and ADOS come out.

Conclusion

I really hope that after you read this monster you were as convinced as I am that Arya indeed has Cinderella motifs, and an extensive amount of them as well. Whatever it may mean I don’t rightly know, but what I do know is that at the end of the day, the many stories of Cinderella are an analogy.  An analogy about someone “who unexpectedly achieves recognition or success after a period of obscurity and neglect”.  Of someone whose attributes were unrecognized in their society, only for them to be recognized.  And I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty hand in hand with one of her other biggest fairy tale motifs as well that runs concurrently with the Cinderella motif, and that is the story of “The Ugly Duckling”, who after years of neglect, finds acceptance within society, as well as self-acceptance within themselves. :)

Modern Demons

Sot System, Planet Dessara: 2100 Hours. For once on this barren planet, rain falls from the darkened clouds; something that I've never seen the time I spent here. With red lightning flashing in the distance and the sound of thunder following soon after. "KRA-KOOOOOM!" Roaring wild like an untamed beast, the thunder made its presence known. But I won't back down, not until I confronted the past once and for all.  I've come back to Dessara, and I want to see what changed over the last few decades or so, and while I could walk through the sands, I decided to take a different form of transportation. I cruised across the sea of sand using a hoverbike, leaving behind a trail of dust behind me as I looked around, seeing nothing more than droplets of rain splattering on the lens of my biker goggles and the occasional streak of lightning arcing across the murky skies. Can't complain about the temperature, it felt cool for once, preventing my snow leopard fur from poofing up from the usual intense humidity. I also felt the black hair flowing behind me, along with the bristles that covered my body. As I drove onwards, going at speeds up to 100 miles per hour, I saw more than the weather, but neon glows in the distance where Ciudad de Polvo used to be. Metal spires ascending above the Earth, how the times changed indeed.   Wanting to see it for myself, I made my way closer to the City of Dust... guess that title's not fitting anymore but it's what I called it during my days here. And once I had arrived, I saw a toll booth at the entrance of the city; so I slowed down and stopped at the toll booth, looking at the man stationed there. His blue eyes matched my own as he looked at me, his expression conveyed his lack of passion for this job of his. "Please present your ID or pay credits to enter Cráter de neón." The Neon Crater huh? So that's what it's called these days...   "Sorry sir, I don't have any credits, I have American dollars on me, will that do?" I asked the guard, and he shrugged at me in response. "Sure, we take dollars, that'll be 25 U.S Dollars to enter the city." Lordy is that an expensive toll... but I had to see what's going inside; so I dug into my right pants pocket and pulled out a twenty and a five, giving it up to the man. "Here you go, sir." I replied. Quickly swiping the cash from my hand, he opened the gate. "Thank you, enjoy your stay at Cráter de neón." I nodded and rode on into the city with the gate closing behind me slowly. I rode on the paved roads and looked at the surroundings around me;  Feeling quite dystopian with holographic advertisements, promoting sex, drugs, and guns.   Scents of smoke and rain filled my nostrils as rode on, soon heading up a holographic path, glowing red as I saw people on the curbs, either begging for money or waiting to jump someone and murder innocent people for whatever they had in their pockets.  Ciudad de Polvo was always a seedy cesspool, it just looks like the city got a facelift to me, without any actual changes made. Though it was kinda disorienting to find the old places I used to visit, there used to a be a watering hole I went to, now it's just a stand where they sell cheap porn magazines.  Then I looked towards the sky, seeing a red bolt of lightning hit a skyscraper; but in actuality it was an electric collector, powering up this city. I kept driving, keeping my eyes towards the road... should've kept my eyes on the camera as well though now that I look back on this escapade. At the time it didn't matter when in reality it should've.  Finally, I got off the road and found what to be a nightclub, looking like it would belong in the 1980's. "Hellhole." That's the name of the club? Charming. Still, it was good as any place to stop and I needed a pick me up. So I parked near the entrance, near the glowing orange neon sign and turned the bike off. Pocketing the key in the right pocket of my black jeans, I hopped off the bike and got my paws wet on the pavement, not even the black gauze wrapped around my feet protected them. My leopard tail wagged a bit to become limber while I straightened out the green plaid cover on my left side, it was hiding something for self-defense. I didn't need my goggles, for now anyways, so I took them off and let them hang above my onyx colored sleeveless combat armor. Then I walked towards the door, but the bald bouncer man stopped me before I got a paw in the door. "Sorry, you're not on the list." He grunted at me. "I'm a paying patron, I need a drink." I replied, telling him the truth. "It'll cost you to get in then." Glad to see bribery hasn't been changed since the last time I wasn't here. Sighing, shaking my head, I'd rather comply then start something. "How much?" I asked. "60 credits, or 80 bucks." Oh for heaven's sake that's expensive. So I dug into my pocket yet again, pulling out four 20 dollar bills and gave it to him, in return he opened the door for me with a poo-eating grin on his visage. "Welcome to the Hole." He greeted as I walked inside. 105 dollars spent so far, out of 200 I brought with me, so that left me with 95 bucks. Hopefully, I have enough for a drink and my way back home later. My first step in and already I could hear synthetic music blaring above the levels of 11, it was an assault on the audio senses. I think the track was called Fakheet if memory serves correctly. Once I got inside, it was mostly shrouded in the dark; save for a few orange and red lights flashing about. People were dancing, at least, I assume they're dancing and not just flopping about the place like a fish out of water. It was like a rave, a normal sight during the '80s. I wanted no part of that, all I want is a drink and be gone. So I headed to the bar, where there were a few customers getting drunk off the gourd; I sat on one of the black stools and looked at the bartender, he too looked bored to death like the tollbooth operator. "Got anything non-alcoholic!?" I asked, raising my voice so that I can be heard. He nodded then went to the fridge and grabbed a cold bottle of Coca-Cola, sliding it towards me. I grabbed it and pulled out my other 5 and gave it to him. "Keep the change!" For once on this planet, I got a smile, one that was actually genuine.  I smiled back and popped the lid open by smacking the bottle against the corner of the bar top and began to drink it. Looking around as I listened to the beating of the bass, the lights were quite bright in the dark, I also the name of the club pulsating yellow. Despite being a high tech city, this wouldn't look out of place from the Terminator movie.  As I drink, I wasn't aware of 2 guys coming in, but they weren't dressed in casual clothes; oh no. Clad in armor with glowing blue lights and gear insignias on their chests, it seems some things haven't changed since last I was here. Those cameras I passed by earlier, turns out they belonged to my mortal nemeses... The Blue Gears. Anthro hating scum, they were when I was stationed here on Dessara, and back home on Earth... looks like they never left Dessara and when they spotted me, they pulled out their guns; one being a Pharo SMG, the other being a sawn off shotgun. Looking at the mirror above me, things were going to become chaotic. When I saw the Gear soldier aim his SMG at me, I spat out my drink and leapt over the counter as the bullets began to fly, causing some innocent bystanders to be perforated by bullets, others fled the nightclub. Luckily I avoided being shredded (although the bottles of liquor got shattered), now it was time to go on the counter-offensive. Brushing the kilt aside, I grabbed my version of Storm's latest firearm: the Cicitar SMG. Pulling it from the sling, I loaded a 30 round mag filled with 9x19mm rounds into the grip, put the weapon on full auto and grabbed the charging handle, pulling it back and letting it go to put a bullet in the chamber. "SHHHICK-CLICK!" Time to let the bullets fly.  Once the gunfire stopped, I felt alcohol pour onto my fur and my armor as I popped up, shoulder against the wire stock, aiming down the sights and putting the green glowing front post onto the SMG wielding Gear, then I pulled the trigger. "RAT-TAT-TAT-TATA!" Firing at a rate of fire at 650RPM, bullets exited the barrel while spent cartridges were ejecting from the front, and the Gear in front of me was gunned down, staggering backward with blood splattering against the wall.  He won't be getting back up anytime soon.  However, his partner in crime was still standing. In response, he unloaded both barrels into me, right at center mass. I was knocked back against the wall and felt a pounding in my head, but my armor took the pellets well, keeping my flesh from being penetrated, though one of the plates fell off, exposing the left cup of my green frilly bra. Down, but not out. I put my SMG over the counter, slightly tilting the weapon to the left and emptied the remainder of my magazine. Blind firing paid off it seems because the shotgunner got outgunned.  Taking out the Gear caused him to collapse in a pool of blood. Panting, I got to my feet and looked at the corpses of the Gears. My gut told me that this was only the beginning, it was time to get the heck out of Dodge, so they say. As I walked over to their corpses to search for any extra supplies, I dropped the empty mag from my Cicitar and grabbed the spare mag from my right pocket, inserted into the grip and primed the gun before holstering it again. Once I got to the corpses, I pilfered both of them; and while the shotgunner didn't have anything, the SMG soldier had something interesting: a BP-02 "Pup" Grenade Launcher. A single shot, break open grenade launching pistol. I grabbed it and opened it, finding there was only one shot, but it was all I need. I closed the pistol, holstered it in the right hip of my jeans and headed out of the club, putting my goggles on the way.  I quickly got on my bike, grabbed the key and revved it up, then dashing out of there. There was no way I can go back the way I came, if my hunches were correct, they barricaded the way out. However I knew a back route out of the City of dust, and towards the village I stayed at.  So I drove towards the electric collector.  However, I wasn't out of the woods yet, not by a long shot. More Gears were coming up behind me, riding their sleeker hoverbikes and armed with various firearms, they were out for my blood and fur, but I won't give either to their grubby, racist hands. "Let's bust this ghost!" I heard one of them cry out, the rest cheered in unison. ...Really? That's what they got? I swear this is like a really bad '80's action flick; cheap quips and all. I think they got a futuristic version of the lever action shotgun from the Terminator 2 movie, at least 2 of them for sure. They aimed their guns at me and fired buckshot at my way and they even did the one handed flip cock thingy. Now's not the time to nitpick at my current premise, I swerved to the side, avoiding the buckshot and tried to lose them, however, it proved futile quick, so I pulled out my SMG, and when one felt brave to get to the left side of my bike to blast me, I retaliated with full auto fire. Annihilating both the driver and the gunner, their sleek hoverbike began to wobble out of control and flipped over me, I barely avoided being decapitated by ducking, and watched the bike crash into one the gun shops. An explosion rang out, sending fire and glass everywhere. But this chase scene kept going on, and soon there was a tunnel up ahead, I turned the headlights on and jetted inside, with the Gear bikers following close behind. With only one light illuminating my way forward along with the darkness surrounding me, I needed to be on top of my game. Once more I had to swerve to avoid the oncoming gunfire, and one biker got up too close and blasted his shotgun at me from the right, my armor taking the blow with chunks of armor falling to the wayside.  Wincing, the sound of tinnitus entered my ear; drowning out the sound temporarily. For his action, I gave the Gear Gunner a hard elbow to his face, causing him to fall off the bike and his lever action to fly up into the air. I pulled hard to the left, rode up the wall of the tunnel while holstering my SMG and once I was upside down, grabbed the shotgun with my left hand, flip cocked it and pointed it down at the driver.  They can make their quips all they want, but as for me? "BLAM!" Actions speak louder than words. The Gear got a faceful of buckshot from above and he fell off his hoverbike, and as it rolled away, I rode back down towards the right, once again right side up. 2 down, I think 2 more to go if I recall. Maybe 3. Soon my hearing went back to normal, the ringing faded away as another hoverbike came up towards my right, rather than trying to gun me down, they tried to knock my vehicle off course.  I felt the jolt of their bike running into mine, losing speed briefly. I threw the shotgun right at the rider, causing him to fall off and the bike veered out of control. With plenty of fuel in the tank, I pushed ahead, soon seeing a light at the end of the tunnel and felt a cool breeze where the exposed parts of my armor were; though I'm used to the cold.  Exiting the tunnel put me near what looked to be flood control tunnels, with some stagnant water underneath the bike. It splashed up water on both sides of the bike, drenching my fur a bit but I could see a ramp quite a ways away, that was my ticket out of this place.   But before I could escape, there was an ambush I had to contend with; some of the Blue Gears had some XMV-850 Miniguns set up, barrels spinning and ready to unleash a flurry of bullets at me. With a wall of lead coming at me, I had to react, I swerved left and right, avoiding turned into leopard carpaccio. No way can I deal with them all, only 17 rounds left in my SMG, and I was holding onto my 'pup' grenade launcher until I absolutely needed it. I had to get out fast, already I felt a bullet graze my left cheek, the burning sting caused me to grimace with crimson blood trickling down. Desperate times called for desperate measures. This hoverbike model I'm riding had some turbo boosters installed, in case I really needed to go fast. Might sound like a deus ex machina, but as I mentioned, had to do something to stay alive.  I flipped open the panel on the right side and pushed the red button and twisted it forward. Responding to my action, the thrusters began to glow white hot, causing the boosters to turn on and accelerate my speed to over 250mph, allowing me to evade the oncoming fire with precision. Winds were blowing in my face, thank goodness my eyes were protected as I was heading for the ramp leaving a white trail behind me. I could barely hear one of the Gears shout at the other troops. "Get mobilized, Erika's going to escape!" He cried out my name, barking like a dog to his minions. It didn't matter, I rode up and off the ramp, heading over the laser grid fence and landed back onto the dusty roads with a thud. Thinking I was in the clear, I ventured forth, but I should've known they won't quit, not for one bit. Following the long, winding path, I began to make my way towards the Azures Village, I haven't seen it in forever and I wanted to see if the rumors were true. I eased off the turbo and the bike began to slow back down to its normal speeds. A brief moment peace help calmed my nerves, but it was just that; brief.  Sounds of gunfire behind me and bullets whizzing past my ears kicked the adrenaline back up.  There were at least 4 behind me, unloading their machine pistols; it was time to end these fun and games once and for all.   With my grenade launching pistol tucked away in my pocket, I knew an old ambush point towards the northwest, so I veered off road towards a narrow chokepoint.  The sandstone walls grew taller and the path growing thinner, I had to be careful to not let the bike scrape against the wall. Testing my navigation and driving skills in one, I was about half a mile out when I saw an uphill path towards the right, that's where I needed to go,  Easily turning into the path, I climbed up the hill and onto the flat top above. From there I put the hoverbike on park. Pulling out the grenade pistol, I waited, that choke point was a dead end and knowing the Gears, they went right down into the trench, lined up like ants at a picnic.  Normally I don't like killing others, but I did this for two reasons. One: The Blue Gears attacked me, and Two: they've taken so many innocent anthro lives, justice had to be done. I had to take it into my own hands... the last few years I avoided conflict, feared to face the Gears after what they did so long ago. But hiding wouldn't do anything then, and it won't do a thing now. Soon I can hear the Gears coming down the line, as predicted, they were bumper to bumper and going slow, in fact, I can hear them cursing about me. "Where'd the little bitch go!?" A female Gear whined. "Keep your eyes open, Erika can be anywhere..." Another Gear warned, but it wouldn't help. I aimed the barrel down towards them... I knew I said I don't make epic one-liners earlier, but I couldn't help myself in this case. I whistled loud down towards them, causing them to stop and look around. "Hey, Gears!" I called down to them, left index finger wrapping around the trigger. "Catch!"  With a sharp pull of the trigger, I fired the 40mm High Explosive grenade downwards. "TIIIIING!" The high explosive rapidly descended into the trench, landing right in the center of the line of hover bikes, once the grenade impacted with a bike, it exploded with immense force. "BROOOOOOOOOM!" A plume of smoke and orange fire, along with shrapnel ascended high into the air, it was bright and temporarily blinded me, but once my vision came back, I looked down and saw embers flutter up towards the night sky. No one could've survived that, so I chucked the grenade pistol down into the trench and into the wreckage. With the deed done, I revved up the bike and resumed the ride towards the Azures Village, uninterrupted this time. Once upon a time, the Azures Village was a place of peace, tranquility, and love; with clean waters coming from the waterfalls up the cliffside, fresh fruit growing every day, it was home.  The tribe who resided there were all anthros, and their elder, Thom Radmus, took me in like he was my father... my actual father.   But of course the Gears had to try and eradicate the village, thinking this was an easy job; but they underestimated us. We may be timid on to the outside world, when we were provoked, however, we were viciously territorial and defended our village at all costs. There were times we nearly lost the Azures to the Gears... no thanks to my sister, Ayala. Regardless we prevailed time after time, but that was before the time Storm came to my village, it was a reunion, both good... and not so good. I was supposed to take Storm to the COABEL unit stationed there to be teleported home... turned out the Gears occupied the base and it was supposed to be an easy job. Turned out it didn't go that way, my sister lead them and succeeded in defeating me... putting me in a situation where Storm had to mercy kill me... It's still something that haunts both of us to this day. Though I've been resurrected since that day, I still have nightmares about what happened then.  In order to silence the demons once and for all, I needed to go back to the Azures. However, since then... things changed. Liandri found the village and ordered genocide on the village, and while my kind bravely fought them off... they perished. Now the village is used for their Deathmatch arena, where millions watch the blood sport on live holovision.   While the area's usually closed off to visitors, there was one spot that Liandri had opened up to me personally, it took a lot of convincing to the president of Liandri, but he eventually agreed to open the spot up. That spot is the mass grave up by the bridge over the waterfall, where the roars drowned out the sound the rainfall, at least the lightning finally stopped I made my way towards the graveyard. Along the way, I took off my goggles, tried to think of a speech to say to the fallen, and grabbed some flowers growing from the bush, being white roses that were blooming in full. The thorns may dig into my fur, but I didn't care at the time. Following the glow of the blue fireflies, they lead me to the graves. Carved in stone and standing tall with their names etched into their tombstones, there were at least 30 of them, some men, some women... and even some of them children, all massacred at the hands of the soulless, corrupt Liandri.  Walking over to each and one of them, I dropped a rose over the mound of dirt, trying to hold back the tears. Once I got to the last tombstone, my knees grew weak and I collapsed, weeping with tears of sorrow flowing down my face; the rose slipped from my grip and onto the patch of the dirt. This was the grave of the man who took me in as his own, taught me to be strong, to believe in myself, helped me when I had PTSD induced nightmares... "Here lies Elder Thomus Radmus: 1945-2015 Leader of the Azures Village, Guardian of Peace And beloved father to those who loved him May he be free of the Hells on Dessara And reunite with our Captain: Erika Kinderington." It hurt... it still hurts...   But I have to remain strong, for I am the last of the Nakotans... and now the last member of the Azures Village. I carry their memories with them, and I will fight for them, for Elder Thom, for Storm, for Phoibe... For them. Til now. Til the end of time.

Snow

@atramentousxedge - Okay so this is what I found/copy/pasted. yet haven’t read through yet to see if I got it right. >.> I haven’t begun on their meeting one though. And I think I should before re-reading this. So--- gonna go hunt that shit up now as best I can.  ps- our tags are fuuuucked. we suck

▬♦M♦▬ Snow wasn’t magical. It didn’t make for cheery winter wonderlands. And it didn’t leave her itching to go ‘play’ in it like some silly child. It just made for frozen toes, frost bit fingers, and finding food much harder. Snow simply made you cold, wet, and hungry. Which was the trifecta of a bad fucking day in Tess’ book, so she wasn’t about to argue with his logic.           ”Indeed—-“ The word was crooned softly as she shivered, tugging the throw she’d found in the charming bachelor more tightly around herself. She’d been right about the place being clear and quite high enough to afford them some small sense of security, seeing that it was positioned above a small bar that had been well boarded up before the owners either left or turned. The only problem was it faced the storm that was rolling in, and had no means of keeping it warm unless they started a fire in the damn electric oven. Wind howled, gusting snow and whipping it in big swirls around the large window at the front, making her wish they’d have had time to scout out a more practical place before the storm hit.           ”—-Though maybe we coulda kept lookin’ a lil longer.           This place is comfortable, and decently stocked,           but damn, I’m gonna freeze t’death here.” _________________________

Sitting with one knee up and supporting his elbow, Kazu looked up from his whittling at her agreement. The pile of shavings he was going to use as tinder, while the wood itself he was tapering to be used as a shank or stake.

He ran hot, and while he too was chilled, he was nowhere near as cold as she apparently was. The place had been a jackpot, as far as he was concerned, even if it did need a few repairs. Winter was already upon them, and they had to start somewhere. First things first was to get a fire going for her, even if he had  to rip apart the busted oven for a pit tomorrow. Potentially dangerous and loud, he was reluctant as he scanned their surroundings one more time searching for any other durable canister.

         “ No. ” He answered her as he went back to whittling.          “ —any longer and we would have been caught out                     in the storm and froze to death out there. ”

Setting the wood and knife down he stood up and moved towards a metal filing cabinet that was overturned in the back corner. Opening one of the drawers, as quickly and as hard as he could, he tugged and ripped it free on the first go. Walking back with the metal drawer that would suffice until a more efficient means was presented as their fire-pit, Kazu set it down and began to build her a fire with the tinder and books he had pilfered along the way.

He’d need to risk breaking apart furniture for more substantial fuel, but for now the small fire would have to do the trick. Motioning her over after a minute, he held out a paperback book to her.          “ Come here Tessa, keep this going. ”

_________________________________________

▬♦M♦▬ Watching the winter storm move more fully in on them she only casts a glance over her shoulder when she hears him get up to move about. Simply arching a brow, impressed over how he manhandles the filing cabinet.          “Well I mighta, but you seem alright.           Somethin’ tells me you’d not a’ froze t'death.” So, she was glad he helped her make it back to the little pad she’d found before, for her own sake anyway. Though perhaps he was cold too. However he wasn’t shivering, growing pale, or huddling in on himself like she was. As he made his way back she turned to face him, brows furrowing faintly as she watched him light the fire.          “Mm– ya think we should tear out the fan above the stove,           and give the smoke some place t'escape.           And by we– I mean you, T1000.” Because there was no way she’d be able to wrench that hood vent off, and yank out a fan to open up the ventilation shaft without some decent tools. He on the other hand– could probably use his hands. With a sigh she shifts, reluctant to let her blanket slip as she shuffled closer and took up the book, leafing through it with a little chuckle that only seemed to grow the more she read.          “Yeah this book deserves t'be burned.” With that she rips out a page, holding it up to the dim light from the small fire just starting to take off, and reads the words on it with a mock lustful purr.

“Ilyan shed his suit jacket and shirt until all he wore were his pants, and those were easy to get rid of. I wanted to do that myself, unbutton his shirt, caress his chest, but Ilyan was the type who wanted all the control when we fucked. It was a small thing to capitulate to his desire, especially when he made me come so many times.”

          “—-Oh lordy, they even spelled cum c-o-m-e.” She’s far too amused with how bad that thing reads to be the least bit embarrassed about it. Perhaps because it was so ridiculous, it didn’t ring as being seriously sexual in the least. Snickering so as to almost snort with laughter over the cheap romance novel he’d managed to snag, she crumbles the bad writing up to toss to the flames. They licked around it, finally engulfing it in a low whoosh, and she moved on to another. This time just rolling her eyes at what she found there before discarding it to burn as well.          “Ya think we can get into the bar below later?           I bet they have some better stuff t'burn.           —Maybe some booze still too?” Flashing him a tooth lil smirk, hoping he’d see it as an implied request to find her some alcohol, she rubs her hands together, and lightly blows on the little fire to flare it up some more.

__________________________________________

   “I would not have let you freeze to death.” He told her even as he stood and turned towards the vent above the busted oven and had to shake his head at himself with a low chuckle. Here he was, ex marine, biological weapon given flesh, taking orders from a cute little red-head in an abandoned bar in the middle of a nasty snow storm during the apocalypse.

Walking over to it, he braced an arm on the wall to lean over the appliance and looked up into the fan. His next words were grunted, curt from his bent position.      “Correct you are. I do not get cold easily,                though admittedly…                It would have been bothersome.”

Reaching up to grasp an edge, the cold bite of the metal sent a ripple of goose bumps down his arm, but he ignored it and yanked. The metal separated with a sharp and quick screech as he tried to be as quick, but as careful as possible.

Even in the storm, there was no telling how acute the eaters hearing was, and it was best not to provoke a test. He felt the air move, now free to rise up and through he turned back around to find her holding up a page of the book and reading aloud a passage. He made a face of disgusted amusement as he set the hood on the ground next to the oven.      “I prefer the real thing, personally.               Reading about sex never really did it for me.”

Moving to stand behind her as she further amused herself by burning the terribly written novel, Kazu crossed his arms and looked over towards the large window and open balcony that looked down onto the bar below.

For now the bar below was inaccessible, as he had intended once they were secured on the top level—no surprises during the night, Kazu wasn’t fond of having to wake up swinging. The entire hallway had been stuffed with the tables and chairs that had been arranged close to the balcony. Looking back down at her when she requested alcohol, he arched an eyebrow.

     “I didn’t take you for a drinker. What’s your poison?” ___________________________________________

▬♦M♦▬           ”No, right— I know.” The reply sounded almost sheepish, realizing that her words could be taken as if she had little faith in him having concern over her well being in that away. However after what he’d done to keep her alive so far, and in such a short amount of time, she was certain he wouldn’t let something as simple as a snow storm take her out already. A curious, and perhaps a little self indulgent, gaze slid from her work with the fire to watch him remove the oven hood and vent fan. Her darkened eyes drink in his actions, the bend of his body to better position himself for the pull, and the flex of muscle, brawn bulging as he broke apart the appliance with relative ease. All of course made extra obvious by the tightness of his second hand shirt. Which looked damn good on him despite the fact that his quick clean up was unable to remove all evidence of it’s previous gore bath down the front. Cheeks flushing, she yanks her attention back to the page before her, distracting herself with reading the silliness of some sloppily structured erotica. Which was far less sexy than the man soaking up space in the small room. Good lord, this bachelor pad looked so much bigger with just the bed at one side, and the strangely shaped modern couch on the other as the main focal points of the place. Now though—- with Kazu in the midst of it—- The space was just filled up with him. He was the main focal point, no matter what else she had to busy herself with. With a faint little cough, a strangled sound of unexpectedness at his frank and so casual response to her reading and comments, she tears up more of the book before muttering, mostly to herself.        “Yeah well I have had far more satisfyin’ books than lovers, so—-“ So she wasn’t going to admit she might be a bit of an expert on the sort of trashy novel she was incinerating at that moment.   Once the conversation was drawn towards the bar below, Tess can’t help the light laugh that bubbles up as she turns towards him, drawing the blanket tighter about her slender shoulders.        “I’m sure there’s an awful lot about me that might surprise ya.         But everyone has their vices, amiright?         Mine’s mostly whiskey. A good bourbon, or Scot.         Though I’d take jus’ about anything t’add a bit a’ fire t’the blood right about now.” She knew that technically alcohol didn’t warm you one bit, but it sure did take the edge off of feeling so cold. Or so sore and rattled still too. Which she was, and doing her damndest to ignore. Though there was no doubt, with the weather, and the way her ass had hit so hard on the pavement earlier, she was going to be aching in the morning, no matter how much liquor she loosened her limbs with tonight.        “However I suggest we stay away from vodka or tequila.         Vodka just makes me kinda volatile.” And what do they say about tequila? Yeah, she should avoid that tonight too. __________________________________

He allowed himself to smirk a little at her reaction to his crass confession, but it was true. Reading about sex wasn’t even foreplay to him…                    Well–                           maybe… He considered that perhaps given a certain context it had potential to be. But certainly not for entertainment purposes. Kazu preferred soft flesh and liquid warmth to paper and ink. Not that his imagination was lacking.

Her small insinuation that the men in those stories kept her warmer than a living, breathing man made him grunt in concern, but pulled himself short. It wasn’t his place nor was it the time to inquire or comment. To easy would it be to find a game in making her flush or squirm. There was still too much to discuss, too much to worry about for now. Starting with the explanation he felt her owed her. That man attacked her because they saw her with him.

That little joke back at the store about the fences suddenly seemed grossly inappropriate and knotted in his stomach like a lead weight. He should have just told her the truth, but how could he have known? What would he have even said? That dangerous men were potentially nearby, but don’t worry its probably nothing. Paranoia might have saved her the trouble…                     Fuck.

Maybe she would have been a little more careful, or gone a totally different way through town if he’d only just said something… It was too late now though. No use in stressing over the what could have been. He could warn her now, and he could keep her safe. At the very least, until he sorted out the bad blood and made sure, in any direction she chose to go, she had a safe path.

              “I have no doubt you are full of surprises, Tessa.” He spoke, looking down at her when she turned in place, swathed in her blanket, to look back at him. Already she looked better then she had earlier that day. Still a bit scuffed, with the vibrancy of her hair dulled only a little from her tussle and close call. His mind went back into a three part rewind; recalling how she’d looked while in that room back at the store with him, to the look in her eyes when he cowed her against the wall. Right up to current times; right now, as she looked up at him.

He could see the phantom tremors behind her eyes and in the lines of her face with his acute senses. She definitely wasn’t giving herself enough credit, and he fully planned on reinforcing that. After he told her everything he knew about the guy who attacked her, and the guys who’d attacked him.

             “At least you have good taste.” He smiled approvingly, especially when she expounded on the passing of tequila. No need to open that bottle of liquid hormones.

               “I need to break apart some furniture,                         that paper won’t burn forever.                         Wait here, and ’ll bring you back                         a bottle for you while I make sure                         we have enough to burn to last at                         least the night” _____________________________________

▬♦M♦▬ Pleased that he didn’t argue, or try to prove she was easily readable, the corners of her lips quirk up a bit more, gazing up at him as she was then, eyes flashing in the dim light of the small fire.         “I would hope so.          My father had a thing for the Scotch.          Had some family ship over his favorite straight from the source.          It was the easiest thing t’get my hands on when I was younger.          Guess you could say I cut my teeth on ‘the good stuff’.” Shrugging she simply snuggled further into her blanket, and tucked some loose curls away from her face, nodding as he changed subjects towards a trip below. There wasn’t a chance in hell she was going anywhere at that moment, too cold and too scared of running into more from that group, Tess had every intention on waiting there long before he basically commanded her to. After all, from what she’d seen, he would be far better off without her. Able to move faster, and fight better without having t worry about her getting in the way. In fact she wouldn’t blame him one bit if he bailed as soon as the storm let up. Especially after that run in out there on the street. Surely he’d over heard something that led him to believe she was nothing but trouble. Hell he’d already had to save her ass twice, right? What man in his right mind would want to stick around any longer than he had to with someone who was going to be a bit of a burden? And that’s what she felt she’d be to a man like him, so clearly capable of handling everything himself, he didn’t seem to have need of someone such as she. Even the mending of his wound had been forced on her part, showing that the main skill she possessed wasn’t exactly wanted by him either. Part of her planned on telling him it was okay to feel that way. And essentially give him permission to take off on her. Once she apologized for the shit she’d drug him into that is. After that she was sure he’d be happy to have such an easy guilt free out. Of course she’d been a little distracted with the whole getting away and not dying bit to take note of everything the man had said, and assumed the mention of the man with dreads had only been because he’d seen Tess exit the building with Kazu. So, she had no way of knowing his ‘fence’ was actually the boys that asshole was upset about losing. Had she though, perhaps she’d not have been sitting there as she was, dazed and doing her best to sift through all the possible ways to explain what that had all been about in a way that didn’t make her look like—- well a killer. Because despite the blood on her hands due to them, she never really could think of herself in such a fashion, and would be horrified if anyone else did.          “Right—- I’ll uh— I’ll wait right here.” She mumbled then lifted her gaze from her bruised wrists to him once more.           ”Hurry back.” We hafta talk— While he was gone though she had actually managed to move from that spot, and had taken up some of the wooden utensils in the the kitchen, using her knife to make some shavings and keep the fire burning. Having sliced the wide parts off of two spoons, and a spatula, she put them into a lil tee-pee in the center of the makeshift fire pit, and had their tiny fire burning a bit brighter by the time he returned to find her toying with the knife, still bundled up in her blanket, and gazing into the flames. ________________________________________

Kazu reached across his chest to rub at his shoulder, ignoring the twinge at his back. He hadn’t reopened the wound, at least it didn’t feel that way, in his attack on her aggressor earlier. He’d have Tessa look at it when he got back, she’d likely want to know.                  “ Cut your teeth on it, huh?                            Well, I’d say we have something in common then.                          Good whiskey and all– ”

But obviously tossing the guy bodily down the alley had pulled something in or around the wound. He grunted a little at himself, thinking back on how brutal he must have appeared to her. Funny, but he’d never really given it much thought. Since the dead had begun to rise, Kazu had spent the majority of his time where he well… spent the majority of his time. In the forests. The wild. He had only participated in civilization for monetary and necessary purposes. He still had to live being who he was. Of course, that was ‘before’.

Now though he found himself… No. He didn’t care for judgment, and never had. Kazu wasn’t a man who concerned himself with the huffs and critiques of sheep. He wasn’t human and didn’t pretend to be. Kazu was exactly who he was, without exception or remorse. Just before he passed through the door into the hall, he paused and glanced over his shoulder, watching the light from the small flame do tricks with her eye color as she observed her wrists and fell into a sort of introspection that allowed him to study her without her knowing just yet.               “ –seems we both enjoy that fire.                         I won’t be long—not ten minutes. ”

Set on raiding the interior of the downstairs before breaking apart one of the chairs constructing his barricade in the staircase, Kazu used a bit of magic once out of range, to make the leap without disturbing the mess. Landing at the foot of the stair’s should have sounded like a small bomb going off, but the foxfire burning under the soles of his feet absorbed the impact. His body of course, still suffered the shock, sending ripples up his back and arms as he crouched low and remained in place. It was dark down here, the smell of dust and dead blood, rotting food and stale beer stung his senses. Standing up slowly he stepped into the dark of the lower level, his eyes flashing pearlescent; reflective as his pupils widened.

There were no biters down here, none that had been disturbed already by their low conversations from above, but that didn’t exclude nasty surprises. More than once a body he thought down entirely and unresponsive the first time around, came back with a vengeance to try and bite him on his ass. Literately. He’d taken to shoving his blade through the forehead of any he came across as a standard precaution.

The soft sing of Ester as he drew the blade from his back reflected from the light coming in through the windows, but he was otherwise silent as he made his way towards the kitchen and staff area of the bar.                        Clear. Sheathing his blade he found an orange, plastic crate and began to fill it with canned fruit and a decent sized bag of unopened peanuts. Finding the beer cooler, Kazu set down the crate with a barely contained chuckle of pure glee. It was still locked, three bolts and a bar latch. Hand burning hot with foxfire he grasped the metal bar and snapped it as quietly and quickly as he could. Pulling Ester from his back again, he slipped it into the eyehole’s of the masterlocks and snapped those too. Opening the door he waited and used the sword to move aside the plastic flaps.                        Clear. Two chilled bottles, of Tennessee Honey and Devil’s Cut went into the crate before he made it back upstairs the same way he’d come. With the crate under his left arm, and a plain, wooden barstool over his right shoulder, being the only difference. Setting the barstool down he waited for her to notice him. Gesturing to her with his now free hand, he glanced at the knife, connecting that she had used it to shard the bits of a wooden spatula and spoons.               “ You know how to use a knife? ”

A fleeting moment of teaching her crossed his mind. If she didn’t, at least he could show her, that hulk of a spear she carried, she could certainly use some practice with as well.

______________________________ ▬♦M♦▬ Unsure of how long he’d be gone Tess had busied herself attempting to keep the small fire from fading before he brought back some real fuel for it. And of course mull over how to open this particular can of worms that was staring her in the face now. Perhaps it had only been a handful of minutes that passed as she’d let the blade of her knife slide down the length of wooden utensils and shave off curls of wood that took to burn quite quickly. However it felt as if it was ages. Not to say he was exactly lonely without him there. After all that would be silly since she’d been so long on her own and hardly knew him. However without him in the room it felt—- oddly empty. Kazu simply absorbed space. His size and his very presence too up all of one’s attention when he was present, and now that she knew what it was like in there with him, the place felt vast , barren, and almost cold without him. Nope, check that. It was actually cold, but in more so the literal sense. Shivering she huddled close to the source of warmth she was slowly building bigger, and began etching a pattern in the wooden knife block she’d found and intended to burn once the fire built up a bit. It was just a few notes of music she once enjoyed playing, nothing fancy, because it would be pointless to put any time into something she was just going to light up a little later anyway, but it was a way of distracting herself from the shit swirling around in her head. In fact it was working so well she didn’t notice his return right away, which was saying something, since things just felt different with him close by, like he affected the environment around him with is very aura, as cheesy as that sounded. Coppery locks, made all the more flame like with the light of the fire dancing along them, cascade around her face as it turns it up ever so slightly to greet him, and allow a dark auburn brow to arch curiously, unsure of exactly what he meant. She knew how to use the blade to shape a spear tip that she could fire harden for a weapon—- that much was obvious. And she could kill undead with it, if she had to get that close, but as far as anything else it would be used for, she hadn’t even a clue. The thought of actually fighting with it aside from stabbing walking corpses in the head hadn’t even entered her mind either. Though the idea of outright killing someone with it had.           ”I uh—- I dunno if I know how t’use it real proper like.            But I —— I have used it before———.” Tucking it away then she drops her eyes from him, jaw clenching, fighting back any feelings that came from the images that stirred, and their connection to the man from the street. Hands come to clasp hold of the edges of blanket, and curl herself in it once again, as if she could physically hide from the words that she was about to let slip out next.            “——-on that man’s brother.” The tone with which she said it spoke a lot more than her words, showing horror at her actions, due to the deadpan and distant nature of her voice, but the firmness there implied that she didn’t have regrets in it. It had been a necessary evil. However this was no where near the way she’d wanted to start this conversation. Nearly the whole time he’d been gone she’d been rehearsing ways to work into it, so as to not seem like she was a walking burden and a magnet for trouble. And now she assumed she just came off like a cold blooded killer. ______________________________________________________ Kazu watched her look up, the lush of her hair framing her face as she stared back at him for a moment and he could see the gears working behind her eyes. Tessa was working up to something, and by the set of her brows and the look on her face just before she spoke, set off a small warning bells in the back of his mind.She cut herself off midsentence though and turned from him. His eyes widened and he fought the urge to suck in a breath as her body language screamed. Almost as if she feared a physical reprimand, she turned in on herself and huddled under the blanket. Then she finished her sentence and the crate felt suddenly heavy under his arm, but oddly fragile as the muscles in his arm flexed, making the plastic groan a little in protest.                               –that man’s brother….It ran through his head like a mantra, winding back through the events all the way to the first time he’d seen her in that store. Further back even, his mind whirled to the events of his own altercation days ago. His mind skipped forward again, this time to the man in the alley standing over Tess, and it suddenly connected. The tumblers fell into place, one after another until he came to a single conclusion. Her reaction, the way she’d said it in such a stoic but self-loathing manner—she was taking the death of her aggressor to heart, blaming herself in some way?Kazu walked over and sat the crate down beside him before he set his elbows on his knees as he crowded her space a little to the left of her.                   “ I should have told you this way sooner. It may have                                saved you that mess in the alley,                                but I thought I could take care of it myself.                     That fence that I was telling you about before                                —was no fence at all. I was attacked by a group of                               men a couple days ago. I killed two of them. ” His watched her carefully, almost intently as he spoke.                   “ —I thought that was why he went after you. ”He shook his head a little.                    “ —I know those men, Tessa. Don’t blame yourself,                                 its not your fault. ”                                     “ Its theirs. ” ____________________________________ ▬♦M♦▬ A hard exhale leaves her as he closes in, consuming the space beside her with his powerful presence, and making her feel even more small, more meek—- and weak. Because Kazu’s own confession did little to ease her, to make her feel less responsible for how everything had happened, since she didn’t know how often he had shed blood to survive, just that she was the reason he’d just had to add to whatever number he kept. Her eyes drop away, not wanting him to be able to read the vulnerability that was screaming out from behind them. And when she spoke, her voice was distant, yet strained, doing a poor job of keeping the welling emotion out of it. God this wasn’t how she wanted this to go.        “It is though——         David said my hair— it’s how he found me in the crowd the first night we’d went out.         Without it, I’d a’ died along with my father.         He said it was my signal flag.         Even if undead could easily grab it,         I kept it long like this so he could spot me if we got separated again.         B— but so could others.         Being scared as I was then, an’ sentimental now, I still leave it long.         Hopin’ —hopin’ he’ll spot me an’ come for me once more.         But again it was one a’ them—-         It is my fault.         It’s my fault t’day more than ever.         Cause after that night—- after his brother—-         I knew they’d never stop lookin’ for me.         An’ I shoulda been more careful.” The muscle in her jaw flexed as she clenched her eyes closed tight then, trying to will away what she was seeing in her mind’s eye now that she’d confessed that condemning truth. Partly because she didn’t want to see if he would look at her differently, knowing she wasn’t as innocent as she might appear, knowing she was capable of killing someone in such an intimate way as to thrust a knife into them. But mostly she just tried to keep the flood gates locked down tight, and not let them open wide and drown her in thoughts of things she couldn’t change. Though right then it seemed futile. That damn night was too clear. Even when repressed it was too vivid, too alive and real, almost more so than the situation she was currently in. She could feel him close, calloused hands roughly grabbing- groping, the slick of sweat on gritty grime covered skin, the salty taste of it and the cigarette he’d smoked before he’d forced his tongue upon her own—- it made her stomach roll, and a shiver of disgust to shake through her even still.         “Maybe if I’d not fought him or cried out, if I’d been quiet, and jus—- jus let him.          Maybe David wouldn’t a’ tried so hard t’stop him when he was in no condition t’fight.          Maybe if I’d a’ trained t’fight myself—- or— I dunno— something,          I’da been able to save David without—- without—-“ Eyes slowly open, gazing down at her hands as they unfurl, palms up, fingers loosely curled before her, as if still able to see every drop of blood they’d bore.         "It was warmer than I’d imagined.          And sticky—- so sticky when it cooled.          I thought it would never come off.          But it did.          An’ worst of all I didn’t regret it.          I wanted t’kill him after what he did— what more he was goin’ t’do.” And that was her shame and guilt in it all. If she’d have been better trained, she could have stopped him without him ending up dead, without those men having a vendetta against her. But she didn’t even try. She’d reacted. Someone she loved was in danger, and all that compassion she’d prided herself on just went out the window, and she was thrusting a blade in the back of another human being’s head, —because she judged that he deserved to die. After a moment she pushed it all away, locking it down as tight as she could again, though her teeth had come to make a mark upon her lip with the effort it took to raise her gaze back to his own. Tess just looks at him then, measuring his reaction to everything in almost a numb way, like she was ready for him to throw up his hands and walk out on her, because she was clearly a magnet for trouble. Blinking slowly she lets her upturned hands just sit in her lap as she finally responds directly to what he’d said.         ”I knew it.          I knew no fence had done all that damage——-.” With that a small spark of herself shown through her eyes once more, as a ghost of a self abasing sort of smile formed and she darts her gaze toward his crate.         ”I really need a drink right now.          Please tell me ya found us something.”His eyebrows lowered and Kazu tilted his head as he absorbed her body language. Tessa had turned from him, taking those expressive eyes from his view and turning in on herself again. _____________________________________________________________________

 His elbows on his knees bent a little as he resisted the urge to move his arms and touch her. She setting off his instincts to sooth and protect without having said even a word yet.                   Christ… When Tessa started speaking, her tone was almost hollow, as if just saying the words physically hurt her. As he began to piece together what she was saying, he looked up at her hair and realized exactly what she had meant. Her hair had called those men to her like a beacon.Even if they hadn’t been looking for her…His gaze sharpened and his hands balled into fists as he mentally went over just how he’d rip those men apart for their transgressions. It pissed him off, men taking advantage of women simply because they could. As hot as he was getting under the collar, he wasn’t prepared for her next implications.His torso jerked in a subtle flex, a physical lockdown to not only her spoken words and the way she said them—but that she blamed herself at all. When she finally did look at him again, he was looking down and lifting his hands to his forehead, pushing his dreads back from his face. Unwilling to speak just yet, because the rage roiling inside him would likely terrify her more than the image of him in the alley ever could. So he annually forced his facial features to relax enough to open his eyes and look at her. Hands still semi-holding his head up and his hair back, the dark of his eyes were both still very angry but also sympathetic.                   The next time I see those fucks…She’d said it herself, she didn’t regret it; but the weight of life’s blood on your hands was something he understood far too well. Kazu was a killer, a beast capable of so much more than she could even fathom; but that didn’t mean he didn’t understand compassion and just what that would do to someone. Someone like her. She’d been given a very hard choice.Dropping his hands he ignored her request for a bottle, for the moment and moved one of his knees to drop to the floor as he shifted his weight forward a little and plopping down into a more comfortable spot.              “ I’m not going to blow colored smoke up your ass, Tessa.                             It sounds to me like you were given a very shitty choice,                             and in your shoes I would have done the same thing. ”He reached into the crate beside him and pulled one of the bottles out. Wrapping his hand around the top, he twisted and broke the seal with a grunt. Offering her the bottle he tossed the cap into the crate and pushing it closer to her for her to inspect.             “ That doesn’t make it your fault.                    Your hair is your only way to signify to David                    —it’s not your fault those bastards were twisted                    enough to use it to their advantage….                               As for the rest of it. ”He grunted and plucked the remaining bottle from the crate and cracked the seal of that one too, for himself. He canted his head as if he were seconds away from mentally ripping the man apart, which he was, and took a long pull from the bottle               “ —I can teach you a few things, so you’ll never                          have to find yourself in a situation like that,                          or be forced to choose between your life and someone                          else’s.                That too, is his fault for making you choose. ” Setting the bottle down Kazu snickered and nodded, reaching up with his other hand to sweep a hand across his beard in a gesture of habit.                “ Well—there ‘was’ a fence involved but no… Not a fence                          that hurt me. Which, reminds me—think I pulled                          something back at the alley. ”

__________________________________________ ▬♦M♦▬          “I know——” The words were mumbled, not bothering to meet his eyes and let him read anymore of her at the moment, because regardless of that fact that her options had been shitty, she’d still taken one that haunted her, and caused her to be hunted as well. Which would make one rather remorseful even if they didn’t regret the choice they’d made.          “Thanks.” Slender fingers wrapped around the bottle, accepting it with a shrug before taking a deep hard swig of it. No, taking several consecutive ones, downing a good measure before pulling back to let the burn settle in with a small grimace and a hiss between her teeth. A shiver shook her too when the heat pooled in her belly and started already to blossom warmth through her veins. It had been a long time since she’d drank whiskey with such abandon. A nip here or there was all she’d had in what must be a year or more. But she figured she deserved to drown a few demons after the day she’d had.          “I’d a’ hid from ya if I could’ve, because a’ those men.           It’s what I’ve been doing since I lost David.           I’ve been too scared t’approach any other survivors,           even when I’d really needed help.           I jus’—- I couldn’t go through something like that again, alone.” With another shrug she snuggles down into her blanket and toys with the neck of the bottle before taking another drink. This one wasn’t as long, but she’d already done a good job of getting a healthy dose of alcohol into her system to help numb her nerves.          "Guess it’s a good thing I turned ya down about walkin’ me here, huh?” If she hadn’t, if she’d went with him, she wouldn’t have been attacked, that was true, but it would have made things worse. Obviously they were watched, and should she had been with Kazu, the man who’d tried to take her might have simply kept watching—- until he found where she was going to be hold up that night. And seeing that there’d been no altercation to cause him concern enough to stay, she’d been there alone, and vulnerable. Especially if he’d brought in others by then . Yeah, as bad as things went, they could have been worse for her. Though none of that was any real reason he should stick around, so she took the offer to teach her with a grain of salt, seeing as he’d told her earlier he’d always been alone. It was probably the way he preferred it. With a deep breath she finally caught his line of sight again, letting him see the look of grim determination behind her otherwise soft blue eyes.          “Look, ya don’t need t’feel sorry for me an’ stick around.           Before I found out you’d been involved with those men too—-           I’d planned t’tell ya you could leave after the storm passed,           cause I wouldn’t blame ya for avoiding burdens like the ones I brought.” Her thumb rubs the smooth lip of the bottom, eyes dropping to that idle action a moment before lifting to his again.          “Now though I see we both made enemies with ‘em,           but the sentiment remains—-           Ya don’t gotta stay.           You killed some cause they attacked ya.           I killed their leader, an’—- well prolly a couple others as well,           when I let biters in t’their camp t’distract them so David an’ I could escape.           I violated their sense a’security, and took out the one they looked to.           Pretty sure that makes me enemy number one to ‘em.           So I’m thinkin’ they’re prolly not gonna come after you.           Ya can jus’ walk away, Kazu.           Come mornin’—- if the storm’s let up—-“ I won’t even be surprised to find you gone before I wake. It wasn’t what she wanted though, and she worried the tone of her voice betrayed that, because she’d felt safer, more secure with him even after all this shit today than she had in ages. And she was loathe to be alone anymore. The very thought of it burned her chest more than the liquor alone. __________________________________________________ Sitting with his elbows on his knees, Kazu regarded her body language with a critical eye. When she thanked him she didn’t respond vocally, instead he picked his own up and lifted it in a gesture of acknowledgement. His eyebrow arced as she drank heavily, long pulls that made him shake his head a little with a frown of someone who recognized the action. Kazu didn’t smother his demons though, they were a part of him and he made peace with that a long time ago. He was, what he was. There was no way to change it, and in doing so was a waste of energy and time he could be putting elsewhere. Now that the world was shit, and he didn’t have to worry about the hounds on his heels, Kazu took it upon himself to dispose of the undead like it was a personal mission. As a tool of war, that was where his skills were needed the most.This however didn’t mean that he was incapable of understanding her pain, and the weight she carried at having taken human life—he’d spent years watching, learning and adapting to the world of man. His time in the Wars were especially telling, what killing did to a man. He gleaned the nuances of their behavior mostly out of habit, but it was an aspect of his training. Kazu liked to people watch like other people watched birds or animals, even if the conditions were as morbid as they had been in the trenches, with explosions and chopper blades, gun-fire and death cries. In the moment of her indulgence, his gaze had gone introspective and it was the sound of her voice that drew him back into the present.                   “ I try and help any survivors I find, so I consider it a good thing.                             Besides, having seen you solitary would have prompted                             me to track you anyway. A woman should never travel                             alone, least of all in the middle of the damn apocalypse.                  “ Our new ‘friends’ being the primary mutual—as if the eaters,                             infection and natural selection were not bad enough. ” He shrugged and lifted the bottle to his lips, taking a few healthy pulls before pulling it back and letting the glass neck hang between his knees as he adjusted his elbows.                 “ Agreed, a good thing. Aside from you being on the front line,                             it exposed our enemy and gave us a chance to defend                             ourselves. If you hadn’t, we might have been under attack                             the moment we took shelter. ”She made a point of catching his eye, and Kazu arched an eyebrow as he took another pull of his liquor, recognizing the look of a woman about to play a righteous, self-sacrificing card. He’d seen it before on a woman who’d been bitten and was trying to ‘save him’… Ridiculous, it wasn’t in him to leave her, he stayed with her to the end and not because she had been female. Women weren’t the only survivors he’d come across that had been given cruel choices. Children, men, young and old; but he knew what dying alone felt like. He remembered his own first time dying… before he knew his life was a cruel and twisted joke of nature. As she began to speak though, he lowered the bottle from his lips and regarded her steadily, though silently. It took him a moment after she stopped speaking, letting her words sink in as he grunted with a nod, letting his gaze move to the floor as if in deep introspection. In reality, his mind had been set the moment he threw that man to the eater.                 “ Come morning if the storm lets up. ” He started, looking back up at her from under his heavy brows.                  “ —I’m going back down into the bar and we’re going to empty                            all the can goods I can find and I’m rigging up an alarm                            system and then I’m going to teach you how to use a                            man’s body weight against him. ”Setting the bottle aside and reaching into the crate for the peanuts, he opened the bag and picked out a few before offering her some.                “ If you’re basing your crime off violation, you’re thinking about it all                           wrong to begin with. One ill turn does not beget another,                           however—you did what you had to do to survive, I’m                           assuming in a moment of panic where you ‘had’ to make                           a choice. Don’t fault yourself for the laws of the world as                           they are now.                 “ You can’t save everybody, there are no hero’s. Every action we                           take, no matter big or small, how the world is or was…                           Every action has a reaction, a ripple effect.                           It has always been like that. It will always be like that.                           You will burn yourself out thinking like that and I will not leave                           you in such a defenseless position, and for damn sure not with a                           guillotine swinging over your head.                           So–.” Kazu popped a few peanuts in his mouth and looked square at her, the stubborn arch of his eyebrow and the set of his jaw indicating his own determination.                  “ —strap in, woman, it’s going to be a long winter. ”