She hears her name

"Arya..." The girl froze after she heard that name. She was going to ask the person in front of her how he knew it was hers, but then she realized how familiar that voice was. She dropped her bowl in shock. Could it be...

"B-Bran? Bran, is that you?" She reached forward trying to feel if the presence in front of him was real or if it was just an illusion caused by hunger. For what seemed like an eternity, the beggar felt nothing but air. She was starting to lose hope, her mind was playing tricks on her again.

Suddenly, a tight embrace enveloped her. Arya instantly knew that it was her brother.

"I found you! I've finally found you!" She heard him croak like he used to when he was six. She would make fun of him for crying, but noticed how much she was crying as well. It also dawned on her how awful she must've looked. Embarassed by her own stench.

"Stop hugging me Bran, you'll get dirty as well." She gave a light-hearted chuckle. Her brother's arm wrapped itself around her legs, and she felt herself being lifted bridal style. She enveloped her fragile arms around his neck. Had Bran been always that strong or was she so light and weak like that?

"Wh-what are you doing?" Arya asked a bit unsure.

"Bringing you back home." His voice was also strong, not at all like the boy she met on Winterfell, like a hardened Northern man.

And so she was carried away, leaving her guiding stick and her little bowl behind...