The girl hits the bowl. He lets her. The impotent rage coming off her is palpable; impressive from one so small.

Etrigan is sulking; the demon says nothing. But Jason knows Etrigan has marked this moment. That Etrigan will remember his making a stand. Etrigan's memory is long.

He himself says nothing to Arya's spat words. There is nothing he could say, nothing that would in any way help her.

He watches her walk away, his hands still holding tightly to the table's edge, no sound but the water-and-blood dripping down to the ground below.