The moments of silence did nothing to ease Gwyn’s anger. If nothing else they only fueled her anger with the situation and once the cloak was affixed and her shoes were on properly she looked about for anything she might need. The needles were still in her cloak from months past, though the scroll she’d brought had long since been used as a prop and forgotten somewhere. No matter. She didn’t need it anyway. She would get home just fine without her sister!
“Why do you care what happens when I get home,” she spoke angrily then as she rummaged about for anything she might find useful. All she settled on was one of the prop daggers that she shoved into her pocket. Unlike the last time she would need to make this journey without food with her as she’d eaten the last bit of her meal while going over her lines earlier.
“Anyway they’ll let me live there. No one else is there other than the servants. They’ll be happy to see me because unlike you I’m nice.” Not that she had showed it by slapping her sister but she didn’t care anymore. “Goodbye.” Gwyn pushed past her sister then, shoving her into the door as she made her way down the wagon steps and out into the encampment. The movement seemed to pick up in the time she had been doing lines, actors running to and fro to make sure all was in place.
She made her way toward the far side, toward the woods and away from all of the hustle. She heard a few teasing greetings to Rena but she didn’t care. She wasn’t Rena and she didn’t want to be her anymore, or the little one. She wanted to be Gwyn at Winterfell. That was when things had been nice.