It had started snowing three days ago. The cold wind that came with it was agonizing out in the open so at last he gave in and turned to the brim of the woods for some form of shelter. It slowed his pace down considerably but at least it was more bearable now. He had dismounted Stranger to make it easier on the horse too. Stranger was one of the best warhorses in all of Westeros but he had never been out under such bad conditions and it was wearing him down fast. Sandor could not afford to lose his partner so he went as easy on him as possible, trying to keep his riding days as short and calm as he could allow.

The inn he had stayed two days before had sold him enough food for both him and his horse to keep alive. It had put some spirit back in both him and the horse and he meant to keep it that way.
The forest was dense and dark, the trees shutting out most of the daylight. Still the snow kept drifting down in a slow pace. At least the wind didn't blow straight through to his bones anymore.

At midday he found a stream that was not completely frozen over yet. He stopped to water Stranger and ate some of the sausage that he had brought from the inn.

It was peaceful out here in the woods. The quiet murmuring of the stream in the background soothed his mind into a light sleep.

He allowed himself to only rest for a little while though, lest his bones would freeze together and he wouldn't be able to get up and continue his path again.

He could not follow the river for long since it would only lead him deeper into the woods and closer to the mountains, but he could at least follow it for the day. The stream would be sure to attract some animals that he might hunt. He needed to stack up his provisions in case he wouldn't get the opportunity to buy food somewhere and this was the perfect chance to do so.

As he went along the way he set up various sorts of traps with lengths of rope the brothers at the Quiet Isle had given him. He would track back tomorrow to gather whatever the traps would manage to catch and then head out of the woods again. He made camp not too far and not too close from the river so as not to scare away his prey.

It was still a bit on the early side to make camp but since he would also have to track back the same distance tomorrow he decided to give himself a break and take his rest for now.

Just as he was sitting slumped against a tree and was about to close his eyes for a moment he heard the sound of breaking branches underneath a person's feet. This person was obviously convinced of the fact he or she was alone since they paid no mind to walk silently at all. He groaned. He didn't feel like fighting of some lost burglar in the middle of the woods when he had just settled down. He had to check it out though for it might as well be a clansman who would very much like to kill him for the sheer pleasure of it.

He got out his dagger and crept towards the source of the sound as silently as he could.

Suddenly the person stood still and he only had to inch forward just a bit to see what he was up against. He crouched down by a bush that would cover him.

The person's back was to him. He was wearing a heavy cloak and he could not make out much of his futures. Just that he was quite tall and not very fleshy, probably some poor young lad trying to survive, not that he was doing very good at it. He didn't think the boy would cause him much trouble, but if he did he would be able to take care of him with one bare hand.

Just then the person dropped his hood. Long dark locks came tumbling out of it. So it wasn't a boy then. Sandor was surprised, women weren't supposed to be in the forest by themselves, especially in such weather. He was about to step forward when the girl started shaking out some freshly fallen snow from her head while she turned around. Her head was down while she did so and he saw it immediately. At the start of her hair there was a different color, lighter it was and in the fading sunlight it almost seemed to be her red. She lifted her face then and his heart all but stopped before it almost jumped back out of his throat. Gods be good. His heart was racing, head pounding. It was her, there was no mistaking it, he would recognize her anywhere. She looked older than he had last seen her, not only had she grown to the body of a young woman but her face showed more wisdom and looked more self-assured then it had before. But most of all it was visible that her face had fallen in, her eyes lay deeply in her face and she looked to be completely tired out. The cheap but thick cloak covered most of her features but he could clearly imagine how frail she must be underneath. What had they done to his Little Bird that she was now in this state? He felt a lump forming in his throat. He hadn't protected her. If he had she would not have been wandering these woods alone. He had no idea how long he crouched there behind the bush drinking in the sight of her once again, when he thought her forever lost to him. He had often thought and even dreamed about her ever since the night he left the Blackwater Battle. But seeing her again after such a long time like this...

He found himself at a loss for words and unable to move. And in that moment she started moving again, away from him.

The spell broke. It took a second for his thoughts to start running at a normal speed again. His heart was still thumping wildly in his chest but he got up to chase her all the same.

Suddenly he halted, right at the spot where she had stood before. What would he even do if he reached her? He had failed her in every way possible. He had wanted to keep her safe but instead he had put a dagger to her precious throat.

The Quiet Isle had calmed him, that much was true, but he couldn't suppress the feelings that she had reawakened. What if he couldn't contain himself and hurt her again? He swore he would protect her, even if it was from himself.

She would not be able to last out for much longer like this. She looked like she had been out in the wild for a while now and she could definitely use some food. Poor bird probably didn't know how to hunt.

He made his decision. He would keep close to her and hunt on her behalf. He could easily leave a dead animal somewhere near her and she would probably think the poor beast would've died a natural death. He would somehow lead her out of these woods without being seen so she could find an inn and get some real help from someone more worthy. He didn't know if he could live with that, letting her out of his sight again now that he knew she was still alive. In his heart he knew he would be forever in her debt and he would chase her across the world to pay for it. If she would want that. And he couldn't imagine why she would. He had threatened her and yelled at her countless times. He did it because he saw no other way then but now that he didn't rely on wine anymore to do the talking for him he realized what a terrible impression he must've made on her.

He decided not to think forward on it too much. First and foremost he had to make sure she would have a proper dinner tonight.

The Little Bird's tracks were easy to follow in the thin layer of snow. He turned around back to his campsite. Stranger stood still where he had left him. He could leave him there for the time being, he had to see if his snares had done any good and chase the bird as fast as he could, now that night was quickly settling upon them.