She couldn't have slept more than a few hours. The morning light was queasy, and a mist that was almost rain clung to the trees. Sansa's limbs were stiff with cold. Her stomach cramped with a dull ache of hunger. She stretched out slowly and carefully, wiggling her numb toes, and rolled over. The Hound was asleep, sitting up against the same tree trunk. He looked a mess. His mouth hung open and his hair was bedraggled, stuck to his face with the damp of the morning and the blood. He'd removed his armour and mail and was dressed only in his breeches, shirt and boots. His Kingsguard cloak covered his legs and his sword lay across his lap. He looked smaller without his armour, though his shoulders were still broader than most. He had wrapped torn material around his left shoulder and chest, the centre of which was dark with blood. It wouldn't kill him, she could see that; but it didn't look good.

She needed to relieve herself. She arose as quietly as she could, keeping the blanket wrapped around her, and stole quietly further into the copse, trying to ignore her throbbing, saddle-sore inner thighs, and looking for a place hidden from him.

The wood was so quiet. There was no birdsong, or branches rustling. Only a thickly chilled silence. Anyone could be out here. Soldiers fighting for the Starks or the Lannisters, bandits, or hungry paupers who'd fled through the open gate at King's Landing after they'd ridden away. She pulled her dress up over her knees, hardly daring to look around, and crouched down. She willed herself to go quickly, feeling exposed and vulnerable. As she shook herself, she suddenly stiffened. It was as if the wolf-sense was in her. There was no sound but she felt the hairs on her arms and legs rise and her neck prickle. She held her breath, and kept her hands close to her ankles, her dress still hovering around her knees.

There was a crunch of a twig underfoot and in a heartbeat someone was very near her. Sansa whipped Shae's bound dagger from its ankle hoop, standing up as she did so. With a cry, she wheeled around, and stabbed wildly at the hand that was suddenly in the air in front of her.