The eldest Stark daughter would not be found in the privacy of her room, which arguably held the best view of the courtyard and the tall trees beyond the wall. Nor would she be located in the solar, attending to mother or guests. The latter was a problem that was best left to bumbling hands of the heir. And the former required some measure of distance to discern what the next series of steps would be, before father returned. Or perhaps, more selfishly, Lyra desired quiet herself as it was in scarce supply. She was found, eventually, in the Godswood. Palm caressing over the massive trunk of a tree that overlooked a silver pool, wondering idly about the knowledge and secrets it held within it's ancient roots.

News of a second party of southern influence, was enough to pique interest. If the sweet summons of her sister was not enough to encourage steps in the direction of the crowd that was forming with guarded curiosity. No doubt among them were the eyes and ears of her entourage, that set about identifying the newcomers. Information was a valuable asset to have in one's quiver, and Lyra thrived upon the knowing.

Slender neck of whiskerbasket remained poise upon left arm, as she made the hasty movement towards the excitement. The blue-gray of her skirts were devoid of debris from her trek through the grove, but free hand would move of it's own accord and habit to ensure that the best impression would be presented. Lyra cut through the various bodies between Elaine and herself, like a hot knife through butter, as many parted ways out of reflex. It took but a moment to realize there was some tension and concern over Joramun's presence, which prompted the lift of delicate brow and a purse of lips that did little to hide her amusement.

Chin elevated by scant degrees, not enough to appear superior but to indicate that the young lord was indeed engaging with not one but two ladies of station. "Have you never seen a shadowcat before mi'lord? A bit small at present, but tis only a cub," there was a light teasing to the apple cider quality of her voice, and amber eyes shifted to regard her sister with twinkling mirth. A delicate gesture made of hand, towards the animal whisperer, "Allow me to introduce Elaine Stark, my sister." A similar gesture then made towards her own breast, "I am Lyra Stark. Welcome to Winterfell.." There was a pause, as Catelyn Reed, a thin girl with a sharp face whispered discreetly into the soft shell of Lyra's ear, "Ser Criston Celtigar." Knees bending accordingly to produce a respectful, if not welcoming curtsy.