As a person who also enjoys being alive, he’d appreciate the sentiment. He wonders if Sansa was escaping anything herself. Her family life didn’t seem particularly unpleasant by what she was telling him, but there was something about the way she handled herself that hinted at a quiet resilience. It was unlike most noblewomen he’s met - even if it was merely in handling the physical labor without complaint, or shrugging off his less courtly mannerisms.

His thoughts are interrupted, however, once he ties the halter off the horse’s head. With a snort from the big animal, he gets shoved backwards hard enough to nearly knock him off his feet, though he manages to keep both feet balanced on the ground. The pungent mud was smeared across his clothes, but he seems to take the show of frustration with good enough humor.

“Heh. Think she’s done.”