Arya walked through the streets of the city, her footsteps silent despite the heel of the boots she wore beneath her dress. The sun was beginning to set, bathing the world in a soft pink glow. It would be dark soon, and the young woman had every intention of being home before that happened. Most people walked past, casually strolling through the streets, blissfully unaware of the monsters that lurked in the shadows, waiting for their prey to wander too far from their group or stray too close to a darkened alley and become their next meal. Despite how many people often fell prey to these monsters, most remained ignorant of their existence, and those who tried to warn them were labelled as crazy or hysterical, sometimes even thrown into an asylum.<br/><br/>She'd learned at a very young age just how destructive these monsters could be. But she had also learned to keep her knowledge to herself. Those who remained unaware often wished to stay that way. After all, ignorance is bliss and all that nonsense. Arya was content to work in the shadows, to protect those too foolish to even realize that they were in danger. Of course, she would be lying if she said that her motives were entirely pure. They were not. She didn't hunt monsters out of some altruistic desire to same humanity and protect the weak. Those were often simply convenient side effects of her true mission--to find out who slaughtered her family and why. She did care for people, perhaps more than she was willing to admit, but she would not make it her mission to save people who didn't want to be saved. No, her mission was the same as it had been since she was eight years old, and would be until she found the answers she was looking for, or until her death, whichever came first.<br/><br/>She tossed a warning look at a passerby who looked as if he might try something, but kept on walking when she looked his way, her blue eyes piercing through him. She kept her quick but still seemingly casual pace as she walked through the streets, the soft glow of the sun beginning to fade, her light curls bouncing as she walked. The dress she wore, though admittedly a bit heavy, didn't slow her down as she walked nearly twice as fast as any of the other women on the street. She didn't fear those who lived in the night, but it was, admittedly, rather inconvenient to fight in this getup, should one choose to attack her. She was armed well enough and could handle herself better than most, but it would be an inconvenience nonetheless.<br/><br/>As she walked through the streets toward her home, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her, or that something was going to happen. She eyed the carriages carefully as they passed, in case someone were to jump from one of them and try to attack her. She was also wary of walking too close to strangers or alleys, her astute gaze carefully taking in the world around her. Nothing seemed terribly out of the ordinary, except the feeling that she couldn't shake. It was mildly frustrating, to be quite honest. She sighed a little to herself and decided that it was best not to lead anyone to her home Even if they couldn't get inside of the home without her permission, it was safer if they didn't know where she lived.<br/><br/>Instead, she ducked into a nearby alley. She hated to do this, but it was better than leading whomever was following her to her home, and certainly better than waiting around for them to make a move. She was careful to ensure that the weapons hidden on her person were ready in case she needed them. Despite being more alert than probably anyone else on the streets, she appeared to all the world to be entirely relaxed, the air about her a casual nonchalance, belying the on-guard, wary, and deadly woman that lie beneath the mask of calm, sweet innocence.<br/><br/>She stared into the darkness, her eyes resting on a figure in the shadows, hidden well enough that most normal humans wouldn't have noticed, but she wasn't a normal human, not really. She waited patiently for the individual in question to reveal themselves and/or make a move. It was quite evident that she wasn't going to make a move, even if she was ready to jump into action at the drop of a hat, should such a thing be required. No, the next move was on whomever lurked in the shadows.