[her mouth twists. softly:]

I like to know where I stand.

[she takes a step towards him, peers at what he's doing.]

But I like having all my fingers even more. And my blood on the inside of my body, and my mind intact, both my eyes, all my skin...

[sansa never really liked scary stories. doubtless the curses on (or maybe even the intended effects of) these objects were worse than anything she could think of.]

Not being turned into a terrible beast, I like that.