Arya stuffed her last firefly catch into her jar, managed not to trip over Mycah (because the dog had a special talent for getting tangled around her ankles), and beamed back at her aunt. Okay, maybe she was covered in dirt and some tree sap, and maybe she was supposed to be more of a delicate girl around family, but she really didn't care about any of that.

"Dad's really good at catching them. They're usually too high up for me to get after a while."