You always knew Sandor wasn't an honorable man. Hell, the two of you met by agreeing to "fuck the King."

Despite this, though, you looked up to him. He was good at what he did, he was reasonable and with that reason came bluntness, a bluntness some people arguably needed.

However, on your travels with him, you both encounter a man and his young daughter. The farmer took you both in for night, providing shelter and food.

You were grateful and very polite with him. He asked for help on the farm as Winter was coming and Sandor agreed. You thought it was nice, but as soon as you woke up the following morning and went outside, that feeling ceased.

---

Sandor had knocked the farmer unconscious, his daughter watching hopelessly from inside the small house. It had formed a cut on his head which bled.

Sandor was stuffing his bread and silver coin into a small bag when he noticed you. He quickly looked away and marched away from the farmer's home, heading for the horses.

You rush after him, "Why would you do that?" you ask. "Why would you do such a thing?!" you scream.

He abruptly stops and turns to you. "There is no hope for him! The silver is better off with us, they'll be dead come Winter." There was that bluntness that was sometimes a very hard pill to swallow.

"We need to carry on South. We need to leave, now. Come along," he sighs, walking ahead once more.