Catelyn found her husband beneath the weirwood seated on a stone. The greatsword Ice was across his lap & he was cleaning the blade in those waters black as night. Humus lay thick swallowing the sound of her feet, but the red eyes of the weirwood seemed to follow her as she came.

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Arya plucked the worm from his eye to eat it, but it melted like a shadow in her hand.

The skull was melting too & the kindliest old man was smiling down at her. “No one has ever tried to eat my worm before,” he said. “Are you hungry, child?”

Yes, she thought, but not for food.

Beneath her ravaged scalp, her face was shredded skin and black blood, 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.”

Fire and blood by George RR Martin

“I can smell the fear on you, ser knight,” the red woman said softly.

“Someone once told me the night is dark and full of terrors. And tonight I am no knight. Tonight I am Davos the smuggler again. Would that you were an onion.”

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