The day had passed away while Arya remained trapped in the tent. What little light had bled through its thin, cloth walls had been swept away to a dim blackness. The crackling of the fire, once alone, had now been joined by owl calls periodically which 'hoo'ed and 'haw'ed at seemingly random times. It reminded her of the men that came in to ogle their captive throughout the day. She had welcomed the attention and used it to make the hours seem less long; however, now she was stuck, tied up in a bed with nothing to do.
Arya huffed through the gag mulling over how inconsiderate her oaf of a watcher had been - and huffed louder when he re-entered from his temporary leave to simply sit and contemplate in silence. Her mind buzzed angrily about what stupid things a brute like him could be thinking about; it certainly wasn't his duty. Glaring at him, she muttered curses through the cloth as her nose twitched in displeasure. It twitched harder when she saw him stare right at her and laugh.
Still, the woman remained as still as stone. It was not the time to become aggressive, not when either her death or revenge came later. When he freed her arms, immediately Arya's hands darted to the gag and tugged it off her face to rest hanging around her neck. Her voice quickly filled the room with a stern and demanding tone.
"So quiet, eh? Well maybe if you're mind was little louder, you wouldn't be so lethargic to action." Arya spit spitefully before turning her fury onto a related topic.
"Also, why the gag? I understand the wrists and ankles, but a gag? What? Do you expect me to talk my way out of the rope or will my obvious charms woo it to the point of surrender." The last part wasn't so much a question as it was a blatant statement of mockery. The entire ordeal was all little much for the woman today. She was out for blood.
"Not to mention," She began, still not fully done her rant,
"Where do you expect me to run if I were able? Blindly into the forest to be picked apart by owls? Yes, that's what would make this day complete. Not the murder, theft, and blatant disregard for my well being; becoming a live meal for owls. Fantastic." During the tangent, the merchant had untied her feet and aggressively threw the strap of rope onto the ground beside the bed.
The woman paused and closed her eyes. With a deep breath, Arya filled her lungs to capacity and sat on their bloated nature before releasing the air through her curled lips. With a quiet and tender voice, she spoke,
"Alright. I'm calm. I apologize for my previous outburst. It was improper of me, and unfair to you." She paused and crawled, on her hands and knees, to the end of the bed.
"But now my guardian, She whispered while hanging onto a low pitch,
"Please let me sit by the fire. It's so cold in here, I'm worried I'll catch the sickness." She wiggled her shoulders in turn while her face stared pleadingly at Weaver. In all truth, the woman just wanted a change of scenery. While she had absolutely no intention of running out into the night, she assumed it would be a large struggle to convince this man of that. Instead she decided to go with the weak, maiden card and hoped it played well.