Should be and if. They were both of them speaking with such a dearth of optimism. It was all so different from the front she'd put on over the lockets -- speaking with lords and kings and would-be friends. Sansa caught the layers of her skirts and her apron in her fists and lifted the hem just high enough so it did not always have to trail in the dust. And Nymeria took up the rear (for now) and walked a few wolf-lengths behind.

"Roads must cross streams all the time. I would think."