[Oh, she's smart. A corner of Richie's mouth quirks upward, and he nods, as if to say, That's fair.]

And even if he does come back, he'd just get killed all over again. If not by the spell, then by the rest of us. [People like Sansa. Richie himself likes Sansa, thinks she's positively cool, and this has raised his respect for her a notch.] Or by a pissy Pthumerian. They hate being played too. I'd hate to get on your bad side, Sansa, it sounds like a fucking scary place to be.

[He would be very entertained to watch other people on Sansa's bad side get wrecked, though.]

You said you're from Winterfell. It sounds a lot nicer than Derry—that's where I'm from, and it's. [A pause.] Well, if you're not a very specific kind of person, you're just fucked. Tell me more about Winterfell?

[Then he grins, and nods.]

Right? The ol' Tozier family trick to sweetening lemonade: a spoonful of syrup.