Arya had only arrived at Winterfell a few days ago. She was still getting used to everything, being back home after going through everything that she did. She was thankful for it though, the training and everything that she learned, it made her who she is now. When she got word that the Starks had gained control of the North and were now separated from the South, she knew she had to go home. Arya needed to be with her family once again. And after a few more months of traveling, there she was. Walking into the courtyard, she noticed some people sparring. She approached them and titled her head to the side. “You fight well. It’s been a while since I trained.”
It was a girl with a Northern face that approached her, that’s all Lyra noticed. She hadn’t spent time around the younger Starks before the war, and Stark traits were also general Northern traits. It was those Tully coloured wolves that stood out stronger than the rest. Her eldest sister, Dacey, preferred a Morning Star, but Lyra held a preference for the sword. Lyra appraised the shorter girl before giving an affirmative nod. “I’d be happy to spar with you, my lady.” She held respect for any woman warrior. For women, too, who didn’t fight such as the Lady Stark, but raised on Bear Island, Lyra was more used to women willing to pick up a weapon. To protect their homes. “Dulled or no?”