Sansa was not one for exploring. She had, for the first two days, some hours, and a handful of minutes sat in her rooms. She cleaned because there was nothing else; Alayne was used to some level of cleaning, even if it was not scrubbing floors or filling bathtubs. The privy had been a mystery - she understood what the toilet itself was for, but when she had been wiping the dust from the chrome decoration on the washbasin and it had sprung to life, water pouring into the basin only to vanish again.

She had also spent more time than she would like to admit sitting on the bed that was both softer and harder than anything she had ever felt simultaneously, crying. She was overwhelmed, and once she had pulled together a semblance of wits, she discovered a clean set of clothes, and had combed her hair and rebraided it. That was yesterday.

Today... today, Sansa had awoken with the scrabbling of something in the walls. For a terrified moment she had thought that it was in the room with her, and it set her curling into the smallest ball she could manage while she waited for it to go away.

It did not go away. Finding herself unable to think of anything but Lady Lysa's singer, Sansa dressed herself with fumbling fingers, the zipper catching on her hair. She grasped the flashlight that she had claimed for herself, and that is why she ended up walking down the hall, her arms wrapped about herself as the lights flickered on and off, her hand gripping the flashlight with white knuckles.

She rounded the corner and nearly walked straight into Klaus, unable to stop the helpless squeak of panic that slipped from her lips. "Oh! I'm sorry." She twisted to look behind her before staring back up at his face.