Sandor shoved her back, pulling his sword from his scabbard. She watched as the man on the ground tried to claw his way farther up the hill, hacking a great wet cough. His yellow doublet was stained with red, brown hair crusted with blood.

"Who are you?" Sandor growled, reaching down to press his sword to the man's neck.

"I was with Stannis." THe man wheezed. "Then everything started to burn. I got blown off my ship, managed to swim to some shore." He thrust his arm out, unable to crawl farther up. It was burned, fresh red marks shiny against his skin. Part of them were black and flecking off, and they smelled horrible, like rot. Sansa put her hand over her mouth, unwilling to even breathe.

The Hound sheathed his sword, instead drawing a dagger from his belt. "Who won?"

"Lannisters, saw Renly Baratheon himself leading a charge of Tyrell men." The man groan as Sandor flipped him over. "Went through the kingswood, but that damn pig shit the Imp sent at us-can't breathe."

"Look away, little bird." Sandor rasped, "You won't want to see this."

Sansa took a hesitant step forward, the flowers she had been picking still in her hand. Another step followed, and another. Finally she was right by him, kneeling beside the dying man. The man grabbed at her dress, ignoring the mud and grass that marred the hem. "Maiden, Maiden I didn't mean to turn. It was Stannis, the red woman. I'm so sorry." Sansa held his hand, shushing him and uttering calming words. Sandor brought his blade to the man's chest, slipping it between his ribs. The man gasped, his eyes fixing on some far off point. Sandor pulled her hand away from the dead man's.

"He's gone little bird." He murmured, watching as she laid her flowers on the man's chest. It was so different to watch as a man fell into death. When her father had died, she had turned away. "It's time to go."

Sansa looked up. "Can't we bury him?" His face was already draining of color, the burning heart on his chest obscured by blood.

"Take to long." He grunted, leaning down. She watched as he brushed his eyes closed, gentle for once. "Don't have a shovel either."

"He called me the Maiden."

"He was half out of his mind. The rot in his wounds does that, makes a man insane after awhile."

Sandor lifted her up onto Stranger, mounting behind her. She looked over her shoulder. "Why did you do that?"

"What, little bird? Kill him?"

"He was already dying."

He laughed, rasping behind her as he gently moved the horse forward. "He was in pain, half out of his mind. It's better a quick and merciful death than one of long drawn out pain. That's what Gregor loves."

"You hate him don't you?"

"The septons say a kinslayer is the lowest of the low." He grunted, speeding the horse up. "But Gregor deserves it." Sansa closed her eyes, remembering the angry man that had knocked the Knight of the Flowers off his horse with a sword. Rumors had fled to King's Landing, Gregor Clegane ravaging the country side, Gregor Clegane burning houses with children inside, Gregor Clegance raping and murdering through the Riverlands. Sansa wanted to say something to him, to let him know that he shouldn't kill his brother, that he shouldn't become a kinslayer, but she knew in her heart that she couldn't.

Gregor Clegane deserved to die.

They rode in silence for the rest of the day. Up and down hills, beneath a clear sky that turned to stars. Sansa looked up at them when Sandor stopped for the night. She knew some of them. There was Balerion, his starry wings stretched above him, breathing flames that had turned to stars. Bael the Bard watched, the Rat King beside him. Sandor looked up from taking care of Stranger. "You remember all the stories?"

Sansa tore her eyes from Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies, divided by Balerion's flame. "Our nurse used to tell us about the skies. But she always talked about the giants in the stars, how they'd come down and eat us if we didn't behave."

"And your septa told you all the stories about the fair maids and handsome knights and that everything in the world was perfect." He grunted. It wasn't a question. Sansa finched slightly. She'd been such a fool to think that Joffrey was her golden prince. Arya knew better, and Arya was dead or at least gone from King's Landing. Sandor sat down, passing her bread and cheese. The meat had run out, and they were down to the last bit of bread and cheese. Sooner or later they'd have to visit some village and buy supplies. She didn't know what they would do then.

Sandor spoke again. "My father used to take me up on the walls of Clegance Keep, and he said up there were the Cleganes of the past, the kennelmasters and their loyal hounds. The three that had died so that fat Tytos would live watched over our house." He pointed to a cluster of stars, and if Sansa let herself wonder she could see three dogs. "Now my fahter's up there, and Gregor sleeps in his bed."

Sansa reached a hand over, patting his arm. "My father told me the old Kings of Winter and Kings in the North were up there, and now he's gone."

"Maybe they're both watching us, wondering what the fuck we're doing." Sandor chuckled. He looked up at the stars. "You could send us some more food! A featherbed wouldn't be so hard, would it?"

She giggled at that. "And lemoncakes! With sugar, just like I love them!" She sobered slightly. "And Bran, and Rickon. Mother and Arya. Can you send them back?"

"Little bird, there are some things even gods can't do."

"But why can't we go to them?"

"It's better to be safe, than dead." Sandor said, pulling a skin of wine over. "Your brother's fighting a war. And Winterfell's gone."

Sansa dropped her bread. Her hand began to shake, eyes fogging with tears. "What?"

"That squid you kept in your castle came back, put the castle to the torch and killed everyone inside." Sandor moved over, sitting next to her. "You weren't told?" She shook her head, already crying. Bran, silly little Bran who liked to climb and had been confined to his bed, dead. And Rickon, so new to life and he had already left it. "That brat King got the raven before the battle, I thought he would have told you."

She wasn't sure how long she cried, but Sandor held her throughout. When she fell asleep, it was in his arms and exhausted from the day and the news.