Thomas shifted the map towards him, studied it for a second, then pulled a small compass from a pouch and adjusted the distance. He slowly moved it across the map. "At 100 nautical miles a day, it will take three months to get to her home, if her marks are close. A month and a half or more to reach these 'islands' and the enemy."
Captain Dirk studied the map closely and said, "No child could mark a map that well. Calancy, how old are you?" Calancy looked at him in confusion. She looked at Arya. Arya pantomimed shivering cold and then rain or snow falling. "How many winters Calancy?" Arya held 1 finger, then shivered, her hands wrapped around herself. She held a second finger up and shivered again. To this, Calancy nodded in understanding. She held up 10 fingers, then 10 more. She held up 10 more fingers and then counted off eight more. Thomas reached out to take back his stylus. But Calancy shook her head. She spun in a circle and pointed at everyone. She marked a larger X at the top of the continent map. "Arya's enemy."
The table erupted in conversations. "Bang," went the captain's cup again. "There will be order!" "Clearly, Calancy is not human, and her race ages differently than ours." Dirk asked, "How long before Calancy fully understands our language, Arya?" Arya responded, "You will have to ask Beth, and she's back in the cabin watching after Nymeria." "Or in Nymeria's stomach," Brienne said, standing up. "You all can take this from here; we need to get back to our cabins." The three of them stood and walked out again, followed by every eye. A cacophony of voices and cup bangs trailed in their wake.
Their lives fell into a familiar pattern after that. Calancy and Beth worked hard on language. Nymeria ate fish and got fatter, stalking the main deck daily and doing her business. Her scat and pee raised the ire of the crewmen tasked with swabbing the deck. If they shouted at her, she snarled back. The shouting eventually became quite scarce. Arya spent time exploring the ship, learning all the locations and who could be found there. Brienne battle drilled her fellow knights on the poop deck daily and even the layabouts Bronn and Tormund joined.
On the tenth day of their voyage, Arya was foot-pounding the deck nervously. Captain Dirk intercepted her flight path and wondered aloud, "Is something amiss, lass?" "It's day ten of our voyage, and I am worried about storms," Arya admitted. Dirk scanned the horizon, noting some clouds far off to the north. He mentioned that the sea was getting choppy now, but that was to be expected this far out. "Don't let storms catch us unaware, Dirk, don't." Arya looked him in his blue eyes as she said it. Dirk began explaining that they were a much larger vessel than the one on which she was wrecked, but Arya just stalked off.
That evening, the waves grew larger, and a headwind began to blow; the temperature dropped, but no storms formed.