Sansa was standing in her nightgown, her arms crossed in front of her, and she shook her head as she picked her way barefoot across the equally dusty floor as she swallowed thickly, feeling as if she'd be sick. "You don't need to wear anything ruffled," she said as a sort of hello, her hair in loose waves that curled down to nearly her hips. She'd actually been sitting on her bed, playing with Star, and being less than prompt about getting ready in the morning, and this was the only time that she truly regretted her own lackadaisical attitude.

"Although if I don't find something else to wear soon," she murmured, even though she was covered from neck to wrist to ankle. "Here, I can help you find something, if you like?" It looked like a storage room of sorts, the kind like where the maidservants had kept all of the Queen's clothes in King's Landing, just with a more considerable amount of dust on everything.