A cold fear chills Sansa as she approaches the men with Sandor and her involuntarily shivering draws his attention to her. After glancing at her momentarily, Sandor continues conversing with the newcomers but their words sound distant in her ears. Distracted, Sansa tries to clear her head and absently rubs her stomach as Sandor leads her over to the grizzled man.

"Thought I'd come and see how things were going, Hound. Been awhile since I enjoyed a good fight but from the looks of things, it seems I missed it," The old man cackles, turning to study Sansa. "Now this young lady here is who brings you to the Vale, I'll wager."

Grunting Sandor nods and then places his arm around his wife. "Carrig, this is my wife, Sansa Clegane." Smiling politely, Sansa tentatively offers her hand to the man all the while looking at Sandor questioningly.

Carrig dismounts and gives the girl the once over before taking her hand in his. "Sansa Stark, as was, I'd bet my life on it. Your father was a good man, an honorable man, a rare thing in this day and age. Seen enough Tullys around these parts over the years to know their kin when I see one. Kissed by fire that clan, one and all."

Sansa's eyes widen and she laughs at his words. "You have a good eye, ser. I am the oldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark and my mother is Catelyn Stark, formerly Catelyn Tully of Riverrun. Have you ever met my un-" Before she finishes speaking, an overwhelmingly intense pain slams into her stomach, bringing Sansa to her knees. Pale and doubled over, Sansa weakly reaches out for Sandor, who lifts her to her feet, supporting her against his side.

"Little bird, are you alright? What is it? Those stomach pains again?"

"Yes, I…oh, gods, this is so much worse! Like the other day, remember I told you about when I was fitted for my wedding gown. I don't understand this, I thought it I was better, I haven't had this pain since you found me," she winces as Sandor and Elder brother ease her over to a fallen log.

No more is Sansa seated and Sandor himself grits his teeth in pain while grabbing his stomach, his own body registering the pain coursing through his wife.

"Sandor, oh this is awful. Are you afflicted as well, husband?"

"Aye I feel it too love, a sharp pain indeed, though not as strong as you seem to suffer with, to be sure."

Elder brother gently presses his hand against her stomach. "It is the same as before, Lady Sansa?"

Sansa nods. "Sandor, is this the same pain you experienced on the Quiet Isle?"

"Yes, one in the same. How in Seven hells can that be?"

Sighing, Elder brother feels her head and then hands her a flask, bidding her to drink. "Sansa is still in grave danger, Sandor-in fact we all are. As long as this situation remains you will both continue to feel it through the bond, though I dare say Lady Sansa is getting the worst of it. I consider it a dire warning from the gods that she is worsening in such a rapid fashion. We must leave here at once."

Curious, Carrig approaches them. "So, you're bonded to the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, is that right, Hound? The old gods have a strong connection with the Starks and have for generations; it is known. Such bonding is no laughing matter, Hound, I've seen this a time or two in my life. You feeling better, child?"

"Yes, please forgive me. These queer pains have been bothering me for the past week or so."

"Humph, you best let our healer look at you, lass."

"You are so kind, thank you, but Elder brother here has been taking care of me. I need some of that mint tea, I believe." Far in the distance, a lone wolf howls long and low, its mournful cry echoing throughout the godswood.

"I've seen such bonds before lass, there's no mistaking them, forged in the hearts of men by the old gods. Take care to heed them." The lonesome howling wolf song resounds in the godswood, closer now, causing the horses to stomp and nicker nervously.

"Wolves. Even at this time of year these mountains are thick with them. I got no patience for them, myself. No harm meant to your sigil, lass."

"I understand. Besides, that was not a wolf; that was a direwolf." Sansa answers without thinking. Sandor pauses at her words, watching her closely.

"No matter, I'm not partial to either of them." Grinning his toothless smile, the old man reaches down and takes Sansa's hand. "I am Carrig, Chief of the Eyrie clan of Stone Crows. Glad to know you, child. I never thought I'd live to meet the daughter of Winterfell."

Helping Sansa to her feet, Sandor raises his good eyebrow at Carrig. "Chief? You never said such to me, you old devil."

Laughing, Carrig slaps him on the back. "You never admitted you was Sandor Clegane either."

"True enough, Chief Carrig, I'd say we're about even."

"You helped me with my wife without knowing who I was and I'll not forget the good turn you did me and mine. I'll see you and your wife safe and then you can consider us even. Most likely her misery will stop then, too." Laughing low, the old man shakes his head. "Can't believe you didn't know I wasn't some regular clansman. My home should have been the first clue, boy."

"Aye, you have the right of it there. I was distracted when we met." Sandor grunts, jerking his head toward Sansa and then waving over Elder brother, who watches the exchange with a smile.

"I am Elder brother, a devoted man of the Seven serving at the septry on the Quiet Isle, Chief Carrig. We are most glad to see you men."

"Elder brother, it's a surprise to find a holy man and a healer together in one man. You're far from home to be sure. You must be the one responsible for the change in the Hound."

"Sandor is responsible for his own changes. I only pointed him in the right direction."

Sizing Elder brother up, Carrig continues, "You have the look of a knight, man. You ever serve?"

Laughing, Elder brother nods. "Indeed, at one time I did, many years hence. I was not aware it was still apparent."

Turning to Sansa, he grins, "I can always spot a man of battle. See, child, men like us know the importance of keeping some things quiet."

Sansa takes both his hands into her own. "Chief Carrig, it was most kind of you to allow us the use of your home. Sandor found me in the snow and nursed me back to health there."

"I thought he may need it, lass. He's got the look of a man on a mission, that one. From the looks of things, he's been handling his business, too," Carrig comments, walking over to the dead men and nudging their bodies with the toe of his boot. "These aren't mine. We barred them from the tribe for raping two women a few years back. They come here to attack your lady?"

"Yes, but not in the manner you said. Baelish hired them on: these and about six more at the Eyrie. Sellswords, not very good ones, either."

"Humph! Cowardly bastards, every last one of 'em. He's been using them to keep your lady captive, is that it?"

"Yes, Chief Carrig. He has held me there against my will for the past six months."

"Well, we'll just see about that. I owe you, Clegane. I'll not leave you three to fend for yourselves." Out from the dense trees appear twelve more men at Carrig's words, all waiting for their leader's next command.

Elder brother smiles at Sandor, nodding slowly. "The gods have answered your prayers Sandor. The time has come for you both to leave this place."

At his words Sansa sobs out her relief. Burying her face in Sandor's tunic, her intense outpouring of emotion bringing hot tears to Sandor's eyes as well. As her tears continue unabated, the grove of weirwoods once more is filled with howling and Sandor glances around the area cautiously, clutching her close to his chest.

Gasping, Sansa suddenly shakes her head. "No, no Sandor, it is impossible, we cannot go yet! My cousin, he must be buried! He will not rest in the afterlife if he is left as he is now."

"Easy lass, you must calm yourself." Sandor whispers, wrapping her close in his arms.

Elder brother pats her arm soothingly. "You must not think like that, Lady Sansa. The gods know all things and remember those loyal to them, no matter the manner of death or burial. Come child, let the men speak of their plans without us."

Sandor gently untangles her arms from around him and leads her into the godswood with Elder brother. "You are still quite pale and it would ease my mind if you would rest for a while in the godswood with Elder brother. I have some chamomile leaves you may chew to settle your nerves," he whispers into her hair, kissing the top of her head. "It won't taste very good, but it will help you."

Taking her aside from Elder brother, Sandor rasps low, "What is happening, Sansa? I feel this immense fear from you in addition to the pain. Please, talk to me. Tell me what the fuck is going on." His words are tinged with deep seated fear for her safety and Sansa senses it in his tone.

"Sandor, all I can tell you is this all-consuming fear suddenly came over me as you were about to introduce me to Chief Carrig, which is confusing because neither he nor any of his men seem to be the cause of it. I am so frightened Sandor-I used to find peace here, alone in the godswood but now…now my fear is even more acute and grows graver still with each passing minute. Please, don't leave me."

Sighing, Sandor grits his teeth, struggling to distinguish his own feelings from hers. "Sansa, I must speak to them. The Stone Crows will help us escape. I'll only be a short ways away, I promise." Leaning closer he gently strokes her hair, "What else is it, Sansa? There's more to it, love, I know there is. It is eating you up, I can sense it. Don't try to hide it from me."

"I feel this fury twisting in my gut that is not mine and it's not yours. It is dark, primal almost, I don't know another way to explain it. I don't understand it, I've never experienced any of this before, except-"

"Except when, Sansa?"

Looking away, she shakes her head in disbelief. "It feels like when Lady was killed. Arya felt it too, it was so intense we could not sleep. We spoke of it at the time. I'm so very angry and empty and distracted-but I don't understand it at all. Sandor, what do you think is happening to us?"

Elder brother gently loops her arm through his. "We'll say our prayers, the gods will give us the answer. You'll find your peace and regain your strength in no time. There's a good lass." Sitting her down before the heart tree, the holy man steps back closer to Sandor, motioning for him to follow.

Elder brother pats his arm reassuringly as they move away from her. "You must act quickly Sandor. I fear for her safety. The bond is growing ever stronger, and changing, too."

Grunting, Sandor nods, his worried gaze following his weakened wife into the weirwood grove. "She spoke of feeling now as she did with "lady"-who is lady?"

"She was Sansa's pet direwolf, the one she was bonded to originally. I think our bond replaced the one she had with the direwolf when her father put it to death, as crazy as that sounds."

"Was her Lady the only wolf cub in the family?"

"No, as I recall when I was at Winterfell each one of the Stark children had one. Her sister Arya brought one from Winterfell as well, she was there when Lady died. The only direwolf that I know is dead besides Lady is the one belonging to Sansa's brother, Robb. He was the king in the North who was murdered by the Freys and those bastards killed his direwolf, too."

"Yes I heard about that atrocity. Does Lady Sansa know how her brother and his wolf were found?" Elder brother whispers close to Sandor.

"Aye, that buggering sadistic fuck Joffrey blurted it out as they broke their fast in front of the whole damned Lannister family. I heard it from Tyrion's sellsword. I ran into him at the Inn at the Crossroads not long before you found me."

"This bonding the two of you share is more powerful than I originally thought. It is somehow connected to the Starks and their direwolves, apparently. Do you believe she is sensing she is about to lose you as she lost her direwolf?"

"I don't know but I am not going to let that happen, you best believe that."

"Your anger grows as her suffering increases and I can see the Hound returning in you," Elder brother comments calmly. "We'll stay in prayer until you are finished speaking with the Stone Crows. I am certain the gods will give us an answer, Sandor, we must have faith." Sandor shakes Elder brother's hand before he walks back to the heart tree and kneels down to pray beside Sansa.

"Clegane, your wife looks to have suffered quite a trial, poor lass. At the hand of Petyr Baelish, no less-I hope you skin him alive for it." Carrig says when Sandor returns to the men. "When this is over, take your ease at my home, as a wedded gift. Take as much time as you need and see your wife well again. Now, what would you have us do about Baelish's men?"

"Kill every last one of those bloody whoresons in the Eyrie. Baelish is mine. That buggering bastard will pray for death before I'm through with him." Sandor snarls through gritted teeth.

"Then let's get to it men. We'll follow your lead, Hound. By the gods, she's your woman and it's your place to right this for her."

"I thank you men, I-" Sandor is interrupted by Sansa's terrified scream in the godswood.

"No! No! Oh gods, Petyr, what have you done?" Sandor races toward the heart tree where he sees Sansa cradling Elder brother in her arms. The holy man is run through the chest by a spear, his blood pouring out of his side and staining the snow beneath them.

"The Hound, as I live and breathe. A most unpleasant surprise."

"Littlefucker." Sandor growls low, drawing both his greatsword and shortsword as he advances toward the man.

"Sandor," Elder brother gasps, "help her."

Ignoring him, Petyr continues, motioning for his sellswords to show themselves. "So, this is quite a feat for a man of your somewhat questionable intelligence. Remarkable, really-somehow you convinced this hapless holy man to bring you into my home, right under my nose. As men of your profession would say, the gods only know what else happened from there."

"Petyr how could you? How could you strike down a man of the Seven while we were praying?! Have you no fear of the gods?" Sansa shouts, her voice strong, fearless.

Baelish's voice is even, each word from his mouth dripping venom. "Sweetling, there are consequences for deceiving me, as you are about to find out. Take her, men!"