It made her uncomfortable that he should announce his difficulties so: that he would confess to being burdened by the armour, and to force the realization that its loss would be on her shoulders. Sansa wondered if that burden would be (in the long run) much heavier than the one he now sought to leave behind. She walked a little farther, but with no intentions of continuing on without him. Nor of hurrying him along. Instead, she was chary. She peered into the tree-trunks and frowned at the path ahead.

And she tried to ignore the trouble he was having with his straps. If she paid it too close attention, she feared she might feel obligated to offer her assistance. It wasn't that she didn't want to help, but rather offering it was a leap their rough acquaintanceship might not be prepared to take.

"What -- just toss it to the side of the road?" She may be a lady and she may be as high born as they came, but even she had a sense for what was wasteful.