I should not be dreaming wolf dreams, the girl told herself. I am a cat now, not a wolf. I am Cat of the Canals. Try as she might, though, she could not rid herself of Arya. AFFC
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She was the night wolf. ADWD
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Only the kindly man knew the Common Tongue. “Who are you?” he would ask her every day.
“No one,” she would answer, she who had been Arya of House Stark, Arya Underfoot, Arya Horseface. She had been Arry and Weasel too, and Squab and Salty, Nan the cupbearer, a grey mouse, a sheep, the ghost of Harrenhal… but not for true, not in her heart of hearts. In there she was Arya of Winterfell, the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn, who had once had brothers named Robb and Bran and Rickon, a sister named Sansa, a direwolf called Nymeria, a half brother named Jon Snow. In there she was someone… but that was not the answer he wanted. AFFC
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“You play at being a servant, but in your heart you are a lord’s daughter. You have taken other names, but you wore them as lightly as you might wear a gown. Under them was always Arya.” AFFC
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“Your Seven have a sept here, the Sept-Beyond-the-Sea, but only Westerosi sailors worship there.”
They are not my Seven. They were my mother’s gods, and they let the Freys murder her at the Twins.” She wondered whether she would find a godswood in Braavos, with a weirwood at its heart. AFFC
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“Your name.”
She swallowed. “Arry. I’m Arry.”
“Closer. And now the truth?”
Fear cuts deeper than swords, she told herself. “Arya.” She whispered the word the first time. The second time she threw it at him. “I am Arya, of House Stark.” AFFC
‘she could not rid herself of Arya’