Sansa eyes him for a moment, calculating exactly what Daemon means by patting his thigh like that. Does he mean for her to sit there? It would seem likely he does, considering how he'd touched her earlier, but she settles beside him instead because that seems more the polite thing to do and she's nothing without her courtesies.

It is beautiful here, though, and it's hard not to smile. "There's the Wolfswood up North," she says. "And you might like that, Daemon. The trees aren't the same though. We have pine and weirwood and not these oak and ash. Then again, you have to be made of sterner stuff to make it through a Northern winter. The pretty trees and flowers don't have the strength to stand it."