[After some time spent in this place, it still catches Sansa off-guard that people here are so... informal. So free. No appearances to keep, nothing to hold them back.
And this woman certainly is all of the above, Sansa thinks as her arms fly forward to catch the ball -- or, well, more stop it from dropping down after it's hit her squarely in the chest. Not a warrior type, this one. She bites down the sudden inadequacy she's feeling, almost expecting to hear Arya's laugh in her ears, a command to let her do it instead.
But her sister isn't here, and this woman is trying to teach her, not mock her.
She swallows and tightens her hold on the ball.]
Like... this? [Her hands squeeze the ball before trying to mimic the movement of the woman, throwing the ball straight forward instead of the wide arc from before.]