A few leaves fell from the tree as a wind blew through the forest. The moon hung low in sky, casting shadows everywhere.
The sound of footsteps opened the Hound's eyes.
"Who's there?"
The tree's boughs creaked in reply. Sweat beaded and slid down the chasms of his scarred flesh.
"I beg you. Whoever you are, the gift of mercy."
A shadow unlike the others appeared in the moon glow.
The Hound attempted to sit up, but the pain in his stinking leg stopped him.
"Show yourself or are you too craven to come near a dying men?"
The figure took a step forward. The shade of the trees slipped away to reveal...
"You?"
His vision blurred as he tried to blink back the water in his eyes.
"How can you be here?"
She took a step closer, her bare skin illuminated in the moonlight.
"I didn't mean what I said. To the little bitch. Your sister."
Another step closer. Her foot almost touched the edge of his boot.
"You sang so sadly. It's true I meant to ... But I couldn't."
She knelt before him. Her auburn hair spilling over her pale shoulders.
"I couldn't."
Her face hovered mere inches from his own. Two blue orbs gazed at him, into him.
And he saw himself. There, in her eyes. Not a bloody Hound. A man. In the reflection he did not see the burns.
"But without my anger, what am I?"
Her lips were cold. He had often imagined them to be warm, with a wet, yielding tongue.
Water dribbled down his chin. Blinking, Sandor Clegane groaned.
The Elder Brother took the cup away from the man's mouth.