Sansa's smile fades, although she tries to hide her dismay. That's the last thing she wants to think about. "I told you, didn't I, that there was a war? That's what happened." She hasn't seen Winterfell since the Boltons took it over, and even though she longs for home with every fibre of her being, she isn't sure she wants to see what they did to it. She heard it was burned. She heard they hung her brothers above the gate to rot. Those aren't the memories she wants of her childhood home.

She looks away, so Luna can't see just how much her face has fallen, and tries to force those thoughts back. That isn't the Winterfell they're faced with here. This Winterfell is whole and strong and just as she remembers it. "Come on," she says, and lengthens her stride, falling silent as they head towards the great gates.