(The Direwolf is important to her; she is a Stark no matter where she journeys. Maria may have a chance to notice that the same symbol is embroidered on her dresses - usually on the skirts - though most of the time the wolves are underneath, pressed against her hip or her leg.
With the fire built up, Sansa returns to Maria's side, smiling helplessly at shade of the other woman's hair. She has the intense desire to run her fingers through the pale strands - that color is so rare in the North.)
Oh? (Her breath catches and she mirrors the blush on Maria's cheeks. Gracefully, she sits, unable and unwilling to look away from her face. The last time she had kissed anyone, it had been unwanted. Petyr Baelish had stolen those kisses and she hated him for taking advantage of her. But Maria is another matter entirely. Sansa wants to kiss her.
Though, I shall starve before force myself, my needs onto you.
She can't know what those words mean to Sansa. Blinking back small tears, she shifts closer still and lets her long fingers slide through Maria's hair, loosening the mesmerizing strands from the bow that holds them.)
I won't let you starve. (Her hand comes to rest on the back of the other woman's neck and then she gathers her courage, bringing their lips together. The kiss will be innocent - she hasn't had much experience with passion - but it won't take much urging to encourage her to experiment if Maria is willing.)
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With the fire built up, Sansa returns to Maria's side, smiling helplessly at shade of the other woman's hair. She has the intense desire to run her fingers through the pale strands - that color is so rare in the North.)
Oh? (Her breath catches and she mirrors the blush on Maria's cheeks. Gracefully, she sits, unable and unwilling to look away from her face. The last time she had kissed anyone, it had been unwanted. Petyr Baelish had stolen those kisses and she hated him for taking advantage of her. But Maria is another matter entirely. Sansa wants to kiss her.
Though, I shall starve before force myself, my needs onto you.
She can't know what those words mean to Sansa. Blinking back small tears, she shifts closer still and lets her long fingers slide through Maria's hair, loosening the mesmerizing strands from the bow that holds them.)
I won't let you starve. (Her hand comes to rest on the back of the other woman's neck and then she gathers her courage, bringing their lips together. The kiss will be innocent - she hasn't had much experience with passion - but it won't take much urging to encourage her to experiment if Maria is willing.)