Kind of a short one, well no, definitely a short one, but it's something right?

An old hound with noises in his head who dreams the hunt is on,
Yet fears the stench of action-
He teaches us that human choice is rarely true or kind.

from The Buried Stream by James k. Baxter

Arya

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That night as they rode until dawn, their horses at a slow trot, Arya heard the faint howl of a lone wolf. It stirred something within her, as it'd been so long since she'd last heard the call. She turned over to the Hound but he hadn't seemed to have heard it, instead his focus was on a beaten up leather wineskin, as he took a deep swig. When he finally looked over at Arya, extending his arm to offer some to her, a chorus of fitful howls suddenly responded to the first.

She wasn't sure how she'd forgotten of the rumours she'd heard so long ago, of man-eating wolves, but it was clear they had not gone anywhere. Sandor dropped his arm and quickly put the skin away, spurring his horse with only the jerk of his head for her to do the same. Arya briefly wondered if he was afraid, but only followed his lead, a small smile tugging at her lips at the sound still filling the air.

It had been so long since she'd even thought of Nymeria, and Arya couldn't help but wonder if she was still alive. The moment the thought occurred to her, she already knew the answer.

If Nymeria's anything like me, of course she is.

Of course if she was anything like Arya, their paths likely would never cross, and even though she'd never expected to see the direwolf again, the thought still gave her a bitter feeling. It was only moments later, when she caught sight of a white stump in the distance that she realized they were near High Heart.

The next night when she heard nothing during her watch, Arya pushed the memory out of her mind, forcing whatever had stirred inside her, to settle once more.

Three days passed before the Hound finally asked the question he'd truly wanted to know, ever since leaving Sallydance.

"Where'd you go after you left me for dead?"

His voice was less harsh than it used to be, his words more careful. He was not the same man he'd been when she knew him. And she was not the same girl either.

"We aren't doing this," Arya replied without inflection.

"We kill the Mountain, and then we go our own way," She finished, not bothering to look at him.

She was about to spur her horse forward when he spoke.

"I knew that already. Like I want to be stuck with you again. I only asked where you went for fuck's sake, not to be your bloody friend."

Arya finally looked over at him and smiled, though there was no warmth in it.

"Braavos," She said simply.

"So you're a water dancer now?" He taunted, sneering.

She tried not to think on the familiarity of the road between them and his tone, nor let his words get to her, as they used to.

"I'm only Arya Stark," she answered, her voice unhumored. "No one taught me anything."

It wasn't exactly a lie either. Of course, he had no way of knowing that, evident by his look of exasperation.

"Can you fight or not? I'm not looking to take care of little wolves anymore, nor gettin' killed for one neither."

He continued to try and provoke her, but his words slid off her like ice.

"The only one you need to worry about is yourself."

She let that sit for a moment, though it was mostly idle threat, before she continued, "The Mountain won't be easy to kill—"

"He's my brother, don't you think I know what he is better than you?"

As the Hound spoke, he angled the burnt side of his face towards her, almost as if to remind her of what the Mountain had done.

"Have you seen your brother lately?" She asked, ignoring his words, though keeping her own voice carefully neutral.

He hesitated a moment before answering, "No, but I've heard."

It was her turn to scoff, but she didn't.

"Well, I've seen it, and he's not even a man anymore, let alone your brother. Killing him won't be easy, why else did you think I let you tag along?"

This managed to strike a blow as he responded, "You let me tag along? I seem to remember it was me who invited you."

She almost laughed at this, but again didn't, not wanting to give any of herself away. Instead, she spoke cooly, "But I let your friends live."

He scoffed, quickly getting her meaning, and chuckled, "That would never have happened. We both know you're not that clever, girl. "

Her lips turned up slightly, "If you say so," Arya replied, finally spurring her horse on.

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When they arrived at Clegane Hall, Arya wasn't entirely surprised to find her picture of it had not been far off. If she'd still been a girl, she might have even been afraid of it, as she wasn't, she only wondered what it must have been like growing up within its walls.

As for the Hound, he was clearly not excited to be back, and though she knew why, she doubted his brother was here. Sandor had insisted they check here first, claiming it made the most sense, since even un-dead, Gregor was still the lord. Arya didn't contest this idea only because it was not exactly out of the way, and she also had a vague curiosity to see the place both the hound and the mountain had grown up in. Now that she had, she was ready to move on.

"Are you going to go in or what?" She said, looking over at him.

They'd stopped at the edge of the foliage that surrounded one side of the keep. He said nothing at first, only kept his eyes locked ahead of him, as he kept his horse firmly where it was.

When he finally looked over at her, he was frowning down at her, not with anger, but as if he thought her stupid.

"Are you stupid or what?" The Hound asked, proving her thoughts right.

His shoulders deflated a little when she didn't react, but he said nothing more, only got off his horse, and tied him up to a tree where the animal wouldn't be seen. Reluctantly, Arya followed his lead.

"We're going to watch for a bit. If he's here, we'll know," He finally answered, as he sat, leaning back against a tree and taking a swig of his wineskin.

"You've got first watch," He added, closing his eyes.

She took a spot across from him, and waited for the sun to set and the hound to fall asleep.

Using the face of a boy, she crept into the keep, carefully and quietly, unseen. Arya knew, almost immediately, that the Mountain was not here. There was a sense of calm within the walls, as if its inhabitants had been living in peace for some time now. In an effort to be thorough and because she couldn't deny that she still felt a tad curious to see the place, she continued her walkabout.

It didn't take long for her to lose interest though, as there was nothing special about the place, it was a keep just like any other. When she passed the kitchens on her way out, she heard voices, and stopped to listen when one of the kitchen maids mentioned the kingslayer by name.

"Lord Jaime's back in Casterly Rock. Word is, he's called his banners."

"No one here to answer them," The other replied, not sounding bothered by this fact.

"Reckon he's taking 'em North, what with what his new bride and all. The men'll go, lord or no, the one's that can anyway. Better serve a Lannister than a—"

Her voice trailed off, but it was clear whom she meant. Arya wondered briefly why they still considered the Mountain their lord, considering he was dead. Then she remembered, they'd probably never seem him, what he was now. It was the sort of thing one had to see for him or herself, to truly understand what it meant.

It was quiet then, for a moment, the girls returning to their tasks, and it seemed they were going to leave it at that. Arya began to leave when the other one spoke again.

"I heard his new wife is very beautiful, but cold like the North she comes from."

Arya felt a chill run down her spine and she stilled, both dreading and hoping the girl would say more.

They couldn't be speaking about her sister, could they?

"Can't say i'm much surprised, with everythin' thas happened t'ween her family and his," The first who'd spoken answered, her voice slightly sympathetic.

"No, I s'pose not," The other girl acquiesced. "Still, he did kill his sister the Mad Queen, can't be all that bad, can he?"

They said nothing else after that, but Arya felt frozen stiff. They hadn't explicitly said it, but there was only one person it could be. She hadn't thought of her sister Sansa in a long time, and though their relationship had always been complicated, she was family, one of the last that Arya had. And arya knew in her heart, that now that she could, she would defend that in any way that she could.

So many conflicting thoughts filled her mind then, all the different possibilities and reasons why it had happened.

There had to be more to the story, and Arya needed to know it.

It hit her then, suddenly, she knew with certainty where the Mountain was heading. He'd never come here because he was no longer Gregor Clegane. He was something else, and as long as he'd been this thing, his only purpose had ever been Cersei. With the Kingslayer and his northern bride in the Westerlands, there was only one place he'd go.

He was still sleeping when she got back, and knowing she needed a little rest before they moved on, she kicked his foot lightly, to wake him.

"Wake up," She added when he didn't react, tapping his boot again, this time a little more forcefully.

He startled awake, looking up at her and frowned, as if he'd momentarily forgotten she was with him.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm awake," He grumbled, finally sitting up, and reaching for his wineskin.

She moved back over to the spot across from him and sat, stretching out a little and leaned back on the roots of the tree she'd settled by, only speaking once she'd made herself comfortable and had closed her eyes.

"Your brother's not here. After I get some sleep, we leave."

She heard him scoff before he spoke, "And how do you know that?"

Lifting her head and opening her eyes once more, she looked over at him and decided to tell him the truth, or part of it at least.

"I snuck in while you were sleeping, didn't see him."

He looked upset, probably since she'd left him exposed, though she was more intrigued by the fact that he didn't seem at all surprised by this news.

"If he's not here, where the hell is he?" The Hound said then, likely in an effort distract her, and trying to make his voice sound forceful but not quite managing it.

Arya decided she wouldn't press him about it, since it hardly mattered now. Though she did roll her eyes, and returned the look he'd given her earlier.

"Casterly Rock of course," She answered, resting back once more.

a/n: Ok, from here on out, one chapter per character left! Thanks again for sticking with me.