They were thankful no windows were built on the back of the inn. Myrna kept watch as Sandor managed to drag the corpse of poor Shitmouth off into the bushes that were along the pink stone walls that separated Maidenpool from the forest. They were sure he would not stink until they were well gone. Once Sandor met up with Myrna after the job was complete they awaited the other pet of Gregor's to search for his friend around the corner from the front door. Sandor leaned against the inn while taking a moment to look over his bloody sword. He did not seem pleased with it. Myrna sat crossed-legged on the grass until she heard the inn door swing open. She put her hand on the ground and undid her legs so she could stand back up. Nearing the corner of the building she joined Sandor in peaking around to see who it was.

"Oye! Shitmouth! Where the fuck are ye, ye bloody maggot!?" the cloaked man yelled with irritation in his voice. He stomped deeper into the town with the ends of his black cloak flowing behind him exposing a dagger attached to his hip. "Good for nothing whoreson!" he continued to holler.

Once he grew smaller from walking farther away Sandor calmly walked around the corner and towards the entrance. "He ain't finding Shitmouth for a while and I need a drink," he said as he pushed the door open with one of his large hands.

I suppose it's been awhile since he had alcohol, Myrna thought and followed in his footsteps. They did not have to be so cautious this time now that the danger was gone.

They made themselves comfortable in the same spot they were in moments ago before they caused the blood bath in the back of the inn. The noise level had considerably decreased since Gregor's pets were no longer in there. Myrna eyed a servant lady making their way towards them. Her gray hair was braided and pinned up on the back of her head, and she wore a brown woolen dress that showed tear from overuse. Large, deep lines formed around her mouth as she frowned at them.

She rubbed her hands together when she approached them. "You two get tired of waiting on me from earlier? My old legs can't walk that fast no more, especially when so many men are trying to make a mess of the place…" she complained.

"We had business to take care of. It was not any fault of yours," Myrna softly reassured the servant.

Sandor was quick to throw her an order. "I need ale. And as quick as those old legs can walk," he rasped.

"No, take your time. I insist," Myrna glared at him and he returned a dirty look.

It was clear the servant was getting uncomfortable. "Well, I'm Old Maggie if you need me. I will be back shortly with your ale and I'll bring some bread, too…" Old Maggie said quickly and shuffled back into the farther end of the dimly lit inn.

"Why don't you keep your damn mouth shut? I'm the one with the coin after all," he uttered.

Myrna stared him straight in the eye. "Why do you have to be such a rude, sourpuss all the time?" she replied.

"Me? The sourpuss between us two? That's a laugh," he remarked.

"You're the one who is always so broody all the time. At least I try to smile once in a while."

"I'll smile once I either get a drink or a woman, and you ain't giving me the latter."

Unable to look him in the eye she put her elbows on the hard wood and rested her chin on her intertwined fingers waiting for Old Maggie to return with their refreshments. The sound of the inn door opening made her heart jump but when she turned her head to peek at who it was she saw just some more men retiring from their days work. Then she peered out the nearest window and saw the sun was starting to lower itself. Soon they had to go catch their ride to Fairmarket, and if weather permits it they should be there by late noon tomorrow, perhaps evening. Although Sandor was in here just for a taste of ale it was probably a good idea for the both of them to find some kind of nourishment after their two days of hiking in the rain and mud.

Not too long after she left, Old Maggie came shuffling back with two wooden mugs that she held with one hand by their handles and with her other hand was a woven basket with a piece of white cloth draped over it. Once she set it down they could see it was rolls of brown oat bread. Myrna went to pick at one right away, thanking Old Maggie. Myrna sunk her teeth into the oat bread hungrily. It was slightly stale but she did not mind. That was the first thing she had eaten in forever that did not come from the dirt outside.

Sandor took many gulps of his ale and some dripped down into his beard. He smacked the empty mug down hard on the table while letting out a satisfying sound before Old Maggie could even leave. Old Maggie gave him a regarding look but told him she'd be back with another for him.

He licked his lips as he watched Myrna work on her bread. "The way you threw your dagger… I've seen you attack a man but not like that before," he noted.

Myrna shrugged and she swallowed what she had in her mouth. "Everyone should know how to protect themselves with a weapon whether you have a cock or not," a hint of boldness was in her voice.

He thought that was funny, but she was sure he did not agree with her by the tone of his laugh. Most men were that way. Especially ones who worked as soldiers. "Let's be clear that I was the one who killed him. You wouldn't even take a step towards him until he was dead!"

This was beginning to annoy her so she changed the subject. "We need to discuss our plan. We can't go walking into my old village without a solid story, and it obviously cannot be the truth. They know me as Ina Rivers and I need to stick with it," Myrna said as she reached for her mug and took a sip.

He looked at her mug longingly as he reached for some bread for himself before answering. "Why in the buggering seven hells couldn't of Ina Rivers ran into The Hound? Does not sound like a stretch to me. Besides, even if one little person has any kind of knowledge about anything in this village they would know about Joffrey's guard dog with the burned face," he looked across the room for Old Maggie to replace his empty mug.

That could work, she thought. Only way it would not was if word about her was well-known. "But what if it is known The Hound is traveling with a wanted woman with black curly hair and a scar on her back?" she retorted. "I could cut my hair but there is nothing I can do about my back. The wife of the elder has already seen it and she would know I had lied to her the whole time…"

"Don't you cut your hair," he suddenly spat.

Myrna was taken back by his protest. "Why? Do you like it?" she let herself smile.

Sandor refused to give her a straight look and continued to eye where the kitchen was. "Where's that bloody woman? I need more ale!"

"No, you don't. The sun has begun to set. We need to leave and catch our boat," she put her hands on the rough wooden table and pushed herself up. After throwing her legs off the bench she walked towards the door knowing Sandor would follow her, willingly or not. After she stepped out she peered over towards the west and beyond the tips of the trees the sky was beginning to turn a bright orange. After she heard Sandor catch up with her she turned to look at his sulky face. "You left coin for Old Maggie, right?"

"Of course," he growled.

"We should hurry. Don't worry, I am sure there will be ale for you to drink over at Fairmarket," she teased as she followed the overly used path that lead towards the harbor. From behind she could hear him curse under his breathe but by now she knew he meant nothing of it.

There were two ships anchored along the harbor, but it was the flat ferry beyond the ships they were to board according to this stranger Sandor asked. Eventually the damp dirt they walked on had ended when they started walking upon wooden planks that would take them out further into the water. A breeze had picked up and sent Myrna's hair flying, and she had to hold it down along the side of her head. She silently thanked the Gods she was not wearing a dress. After they passed the two ships they approached the ferry and saw a familiar face waiting at the front of the gangplank.

"Good. We were about to set sail off without youse," he called out to them and walked up the gangplank and onto the ferry. Myrna followed and took a step onto it but before she could hop into the ferry a different man stepped in front of her. She nearly bumped into him and stared up at his face. He had a full beard but you could still see a scowl on his face as he stared down at her.

He held out his hand. "Two gold pieces. One for each passenger," he commanded.

Sandor pushed her aside as he fumbled with the coin within the purse they stole. "That's an awful lot of coin you're asking for, especially for a simple ferry ride…" he took the coin out and glared at the man.

"Hard times," was all the supposed captain said and he seemed to stare at Sandor's scar uneasily. The wind had blown his brown curls aside leaving him exposed. Sandor put the coin into the captain's hand and the captain gave it a look for a second before nodding and stepping aside.

Before they walked on Sandor mumbled to her, "A bunch of cunts, this lot…" and he took a heavy step in that nearly made the ferry bounce. Myrna replied with a sigh and jumped in as well but with more gentle in her step.

They walked over to the other side which wasn't very far. She watched the old man with the scar on his face pull in the gangplank with the rope that was attached to it and then pick up one of the few paddles that were resting in a pile. Large saddle bags were piled against the paddles and there was some more rope circled up neatly too. After the captain had chatted with the few other folk on the ferry he went to grab one too and then gave the dock a push with the paddle. Slowly they drifted away from the land and Myrna grabbed a hold of the railing with both hands, not caring now that the wind was making her hair dance. Her belly was in a knot from anxiety but also excitement. Right now they were in the Bay of Crabs and all she could see was water with a small line of land visible across it. She knew eventually this body of water would slim down and they would be traveling down one of the three forks towards their destination. It would be Blue Fork, she knew, that would lead them to Fairmarket. Sandor, being as tall as he was, could sit on the railing. His arms were crossed as he faced the shore they just left.

The orange sky bounced off the rippling water. After taking in the view Myrna began to find herself more at ease and now rested her arms on the pine railing. "Why don't you turn around and look?" she spoke to Sandor.

He grunted. "I've seen water before," he replied flatly.

"Just do it," she insisted.

Uncrossing his arms he turned his body to face the water. He remained silent, but Myrna could tell he enjoyed the sunset. The glow brightened his face and she could see the burned flesh easily through pieces of his brown hair. Myrna found something else to look at, feeling impolite. On the other side of Sandor she saw a pair of arms using the paddle to push the ferry forward. After peeking behind her she saw the friendly old scarred man was paddling on the other side so she assumed it was the captain.

"I just remembered something," Sandor rasped.

Myrna looked up at the mass of scarred tissue on his face since he did not care to face her. "What is it?"

"Before my father died he took me out on one hunting trip since I came of age where boys should learn how," he looked down but then back up. "He killed a boar with Gregor. I was pissed that I had no part of it, but he promised me next time I could help. A bloody empty promise that turned out to be. But we were on the edge of the continent. We were along the sunset sea as the sun began to set after that long day. It reminds me of this…" he ended his story.

"Make you homesick?" she asked.

He cackled. "Fuck no. I hated my father, and I'd spit on his grave if I ever happened upon it. Plus Gregor had to come with us that day and ruin any chance of me actually killing anything…" Then his tone turned doleful. "He deserved to be killed after hiding what happened. Choosing to protect Gregor instead of me. Or rather his chance at knighthood…"

"So you really believe Gregor killed your parents?"

"As sure as you are that your brother killed yours," he assured her. "Right?" he finally looked at her.

After holding onto his gaze for a moment she looked down at the water below them. That was something she hated to be reminded of. Sure, it was fair of him to bring up her past after her being so nosey but she had actually witnessed it. He did not. Not wishing to start an argument, especially being stranded on a ferry with strangers surrounding them, she did not comment on that.

Just as quick as the orange hue had glowed in the west, it began to dim. It faded into a blueish haze and soon that haze turned into the black of night. Everyone on the ferry had remained peaceful. People started sitting down one by one, including them, and getting into comfortable positions for resting or sleep. Every so often you might have heard the soft noise of a whisper but no more. By now the ferry had caught onto the current of the approaching river they were going to enter soon and Myrna saw the lands closing in around them as they started to exit the bay. The captain and her old acquaintance no longer peddled and were, too, resting. They held a quiet chat as they sat side by side at the very end of the ferry. To her they seemed to be old friends.

Myrna's eye was caught on a glow in the distance from the north. When she turned to face it and grab one of the lower wooden rails she saw it was the glow of small fires throughout a small town in the distance. "Must be the Salt Pans," she said in a low voice.

Sandor was leaning his back against the railing and had his eyes closed. He opened them when he heard her and gave her a sideways glance. "Sleep is more important than sightseeing," he mumbled as he closed his eyes and adjusted himself.

Feeling stupid for even opening her mouth, she slid back into her former sitting position but now decided to lay down completely since there was room for it. Every time the ferry would rock harder than normal it would wake her and she could hear gloop noises under her from the waves. Will I ever have a comfortable nights rest? Myrna became agitated and rolled to try and sleep on her other side but she found it difficult to.

Myrna tried to picture in her head what her tiny lodge in the village looked like during her stay there over a year ago. It was only sixteen by twenty feet, but the second level gave her more space to work with. The one window was placed on the left side of the home where the small table sat. In the middle where you walked in the front door made of pine panels was the fire place made of gray stone. Then the last thing she vaguely remembered was the straw mattress that sat on a pinewood bedframe. Myrna wondered if that was where they would end up living if they accepted her once more.

When she asked why they were being so generous at her first arrival, they explained to her with tears in their eyes how their daughter about her age succumbed to a high fever and now the place was empty. Their daughter lived there until she fell ill and her parents took her in where they raised her. Days later she died battling the sickness she had. It saddened her, but wondered if she was ever used by them. Did they think of me as a replacement for their daughter? She continued to let her thoughts run. A tear dropped from the corner of her eye and onto the floor of the ferry as she thought about her real mother but that was all she would allow before falling asleep.

By the time her eyes opened she witnessed birds flocking overhead against a chilly blue sky. After lying there staring up at the sky for a moment she went to sit up to find her back in great pain from sleeping on such a hard surface. Adding the unnaturally deformed skin on her back from her old burn it only added more to the discomfort. Eventually she sat on her rear and she reached her arm around her backside to rub her back as best she could manage while she surveyed the ferry. She was the last to wake, and it seemed almost as if it were already noon.

"Gods, how long did I sleep?" she stopped rubbing her back to rub her eyes.

Sandor replied to her. "Too long. Take this," he reached out one of the same oat breads they had eaten back at the inn towards her and she took it. "They passed it out this morn," he elaborated.

After taking a bite she looked at him. He was sitting in the same spot as last night, seeming to not have moved an inch. Some footsteps came her way and it was her acquaintance with the scar. He smiled down at her. "Good morning," he said in a teasing tone. "I wanted to wake youse up earlier, but erm, your friend here was a little distrustful of me I think…" he turned his attention to Sandor.

"I know what is best for her," Sandor growled at the man.

The man put his hands up in the air. "I'm sure, I'm sure…" he returned his gaze to Myrna who did not know how to react to the tension between the two men. "We just entered the Blue Fork. By the end of the day we'll be home," he informed her and gave a bow before walking away.

"Bloody knight," Sandor cursed under his breath but loud enough for Myrna to hear. She feared others heard him as well and gave him a kick with her foot, but not hard. "What? If you like knights so much you should have stayed at King's Landing where you were to marry one," Sandor japed but coldly.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the ferry," Myrna japed back but it was awful and she knew it.

Before Sandor reacted to that poor attempt at a joke he noticed the strain she had on her face and seemed to change what he was originally going to say. "Are you alright?"

"It's nothing…" she replied softly and finished her bread.

"Do you trust me?" he asked her out of the blue.

She blinked. "What do you mean by that?"

"If you trust me, sit closer to me…" he demanded.

Cautiously she scooted closer to him until she sat beside him and once she did his arm rose and went behind her. At first she thought he was going to wrap his arm around her like the night they slept under the bridge before their argument over Sansa but instead his hand pushed deep into her back. His hand traveled around, applying pressure wherever it landed. Truth be told, that was the first time she ever allowed anyone to touch her there since she received her scar. Myrna felt herself flush and search to see if anyone was watching them but no one was. Perhaps they already looked like a couple from the beginning.

"Thank you," Myrna told him as he continued.