Bards had begun singing their songs of The Bringer of the Dawn almost as soon as she'd stuck her knife in the bloody Night King. The songs of Azar Azai, the Princess that was Promised followed shortly thereafter. She had scoffed at the absurdity that even after all the carnage and death, all that utter despair, they still managed to sing their silly songs. Wolves of Winterfell had made her grin when it reached her ears across the sea until a line about a bull caused her insides to curl uncomfortably. The Song of Arya Stark freshened long buried wounds and set her aflame. Her tragic story laid bare for the world, least what they knew of it which really wasn't all that much, made her sad and feel so very alone surrounded by strangers in a strange land worlds away from anyone who knew the truth of Arya Stark. Especially the bastard whom they called The Raging Bull, her apparent tragic love interest. It was this that ultimately sealed her fate, raging even at the very Gods themselves because no matter how far she went it never seemed far enough to outrun him. The Love of the Raging Bull seemed wholly unnecessary and she told him so as she stood drenched to the bone before his stunned self in the crowded hall of Storms End.

"I was doing bloody well moving on with my life! I was living my dream of sailing the world after I did the fucking impossible and I should be across the ocean enjoying the freedoms I've bloody well earned. Why is it then that no matter where I go nowhere is safe from you! All it takes is a mention of a bull and I hear your voice in my head, feel your hands on my drives me mad! Damn you for making it so impossible to stay away!"

"Arya." Her name is just a whisper from his lips, practically a plea and sets her snarling against the urge to just drop it all and run into the only place she'd ever felt she belonged. Bloody damn bull and his ridiculously appealing arms, so strong and sure and looking at her like she's the answer to every prayer hes ever made.

"God's be damned Gendry. I tried to leave you behind but no matter how far I go or how hard I try I cannot stop myself from wanting you and I hate myself for it!" Her temper is flaring high and The Wild Wolves ire is both legendary and frightening. The Raging Bull looks decidedly unconcerned after he's finished kissing her breathless, onlookers be damned.