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- Джордж Мартин
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"
If
it
’
s
a
fishing
village
,
they
’
d
sell
us
fish
,
I
bet
,
"
said
Hot
Pie
.
The
lake
teemed
with
fresh
fish
,
but
they
had
nothing
to
catch
them
with
.
Arya
had
tried
to
use
her
hands
,
the
way
she
’
d
seen
Koss
do
,
but
fish
were
quicker
than
pigeons
and
the
water
played
tricks
on
her
eyes
.
"
I
don
’
t
know
about
fish
.
"
Arya
tugged
at
the
Weasel
’
s
matted
hair
,
thinking
it
might
be
best
to
hack
it
off
.
"
There
’
s
crows
down
by
the
water
.
Something
’
s
dead
there
.
"
"
Fish
,
washed
up
on
shore
,
"
Hot
Pie
said
.
"
If
the
crows
eat
it
,
I
bet
we
could
.
"
"
We
should
catch
some
crows
,
we
could
eat
them
,
"
said
Lommy
.
"
We
could
make
a
fire
and
roast
them
like
chickens
.
"
Gendry
looked
fierce
when
he
scowled
.
His
beard
had
grown
in
thick
and
black
as
briar
.
"
I
said
,
no
fires
.
"
"
Lommy
’
s
hungry
,
"
Hot
Pie
whined
,
"
and
I
am
too
.
"
"
We
’
re
all
hungry
,
"
said
Arya
.
"
You
’
re
not
,
"
Lommy
spat
from
the
ground
.
"
Worm
breath
.
"
Arya
could
have
kicked
him
in
his
wound
.
"
I
said
I
’
d
dig
worms
for
you
too
,
if
you
wanted
.
"
Lommy
made
a
disgusted
face
.
"
If
it
wasn
’
t
for
my
leg
,
I
’
d
hunt
us
some
boars
.
"
