Bare feet, a leather vest covered in scratches, coarse linen trousers, short hair as messy as a bird's nest, hands as dirty as a little beggar's, face also dirty, only those eyes were bright and lively.
Before her stood a black cat with its back arched, chased halfway across the city by a 'little beggar' with outstretched paws, finally cornered in this narrow alley.
This is a dead end; the alley is steep and there is no exit. Three sides are smooth, high stone walls.
The black cat's bright eyes already showed fear.
Cats are the most abundant creatures in King's Landing, and the place where cats congregate is the Red Keep, the power center of the Seven Kingdoms.
In the residences of the King, the Prime Minister, and the court nobles, even leftovers were delicacies for the wild cats. No one has ever counted how many wild cats and pet cats the noble ladies kept in the Red Keep; their numbers are simply countless.
Now, the cats have a natural enemy: Arya Stark, the little beggar who chased half the city to catch this black cat.
Still as water!
Arya held her breath, stretched out her arms, and blocked the black cat's path on both sides. Based on experience, the black cat would pass between her legs and escape again.
But Elia knew she was prepared to let the cat fall into a trap.
Hiss! Hiss! Hiss!
The black cat bared its teeth and threatened Arya, its hunched back gathering strength to unleash with lightning speed.
As swift as the wind!
Arya was giving herself a warning!
As stable as a mountain!
You must stay calm!
call out!
The cat moved, first to the left, then suddenly to the right, but these were all feints. The black cat suddenly exerted its strength, shooting like a black shadow between Arya's legs like an arrow.
Arya swung her legs from side to side, but the black cat didn't back down. Its sharp claws viciously clawed at Arya's calves. Suddenly, Arya's scalp tightened as she grabbed it with her right hand and lifted it up.
The black cat struggled desperately. It had been free for too long, and being caught felt like it was about to be killed. Its hiss was terrifying, and its claws lashed out wildly.
Arya suddenly leaned down and kissed the black cat between its eyes, then quickly backed away before the cat's claws could scratch her face, leaving the cat's claws empty.
"You little devil, you made me get punished by Cilio for three days. Hehe, now you can't escape!"
Arya now has to catch a cat every day and give it to Syrio Forrell, as a task she must complete before starting class.
One cat per day, and each cat must be a different one of different colors and patterns.
In any case, the Red Fortress has no shortage of all kinds of cats.
Cyrio Forel is Arya's dance teacher. He comes from across the Narrow Sea and claims to have served as the chief swordsman of the King of Braavos for nine years.
Arya's daily dance class is actually sword practice.
Because swordsmanship was like a beautiful art, like music and dance, Arya's learning of swordsmanship was not called learning swordsmanship, but dancing.
To dance with Syrio, you must first catch a cat and give it to him.
Arya, holding the black cat, had only taken a few steps when she had to stop.
There were at least three people standing in the alley.
The three men were all looking at her with ill intent; clearly, none of them intended to give way.
Arya couldn't tell whether the three people were servants of a certain family or something else.
None of the three people wore family crests.
They were not carrying any weapons.
The person at the front looked like a dwarf, but was slightly taller. He wore a hideous, clumsy mask that only revealed his eyes and mouth. He was whistling a relaxed tune and looking at Arya with a playful gaze.
A few meters behind him stood a tall, robust woman who looked at him with gentle eyes, without any malice.
At the very back was a little girl leaning against the wall. Arya could see her clearly through the wall. The girl wasn't much taller than Arya, and was equally thin. Her eyes occasionally revealed a very strong aggressive intent.
Three people stood in the alley, blocking Arya's way.
The three people didn't share any common markings, but Arya could tell they were a group.
"Little sister, you stole my cat, you have to pay us back." The masked boy at the front said with a grin.
"Get out of here! This is a wildcat from the Red Keep. It doesn't belong to anyone!" Arya shouted.
"If you don't pay compensation, you have to come with us." The masked boy walked towards Arya and stretched out his arms.
The tall, strong woman in the middle began to move, closing in, while the slender girl leaning against the wall at the back remained motionless, her eyes suddenly turning fierce, as if Arya had some deep-seated grudge against her.
"My father is the Prime Minister. If you don't want to be beheaded, get out of here!" Arya said sternly.
Swift as a rabbit, fierce as a tiger, fast as the wind.
Arya silently recited the mantra her dance teacher had taught her, and suddenly with a wave of her hand, the black cat that she was holding and pressing against her chest, which was scratching at her leather jacket, flew away and pounced on the masked boy.
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The black cat hissed, baring its sharp teeth, and stretched out its claws, pouncing on the masked boy.
The masked boy was startled and quickly dodged, instinctively covering his face with his hands. The black cat twisted and landed, darting away from him. At the same time, another shadow brushed past him—it was Arya.
A pair of large hands reached out to grab Arya. —A burly woman rushed forward and made her move.
Arya shifted her body to the side, quickly ducked, and moved with the agility of a kitten. She slipped between the legs of the tall, burly woman, and by the time the woman turned around, Arya was already ten meters away, facing the girl leaning against the wall.
Arya is as fast as the wind!
The girl watched Arya run over, still leaning against the wall, but Arya's heart skipped a beat. The other girl didn't have a sword, yet Arya could feel the sharpness and coldness of a sword.
This feeling comes from the girl's eyes.
"Get out of my way!" Arya shouted. "I am Arya Stark, do you want to die?"
The girl's lips curled up, but she remained unmoved upon hearing the name of the Stark family.
"Don't look at her movements, look at her eyes. Her eyes will tell you what she's thinking, and then you'll know what her next move will be. Of course, don't use your eyes, use your heart!" Cilio's voice rang in my ears.
However, there was no movement in the girl's eyes, only a chilling aura, or perhaps more accurately, a murderous intent.
This girl wanted to kill her.
This made Arya's heart pound.
The girl suddenly moved, instead of blocking Arya's path, she used the wall to kick Arya hard in the stomach.
Arya dodged to the right, almost crashing into the wall, just to avoid the incredibly fast kick.
It was because of that kick that she noticed the other person's boots were military boots.
She was too nervous just now and only focused on the girl's eyes. Those eyes suddenly became so terrifying that they captured all of Arya's attention.
This girl is a warrior.
call!
The girl slid in and chased after Arya, striking her face with her right fist.
Arya lowered her head and charged forward: Flash!
The opponent's fist swept overhead with a powerful gust of wind, creating a whooshing sound.