You and The Hound had been traveling together for a few days. It wasnt a particularly friendly 'alliance'. He was traveling with you north to Lady Arryn, your aunt. He said it was so he could recurve an award, since you were in fact one of the few Starks left in your family.

You were less than thrilled to be traveling with him. You had tried/promised to kill him a few times. But the likely hood of you actually winning a fight to him...were slim. It had been a few weeks of travel and you still had a long way to go. You had gotten into a fight with a few cvnts at a bar, and Sandor had a nasty bite on his neck from one of the men.

You both sat around a fire in a field by some rocks. Sandors armor was off and he had on a dark shirt. His neck was bloody and looked...really bad. He pressed a rag to it and cursed. Then reached for a bent needle in an attempt to sew it. You sighed and looked at him. "You're doing it wrong. You need to burn away that horrible bit there. Otherwise it's going to get infected and fester..." He tensed. "I know you don't like fire, but if you dont-" "No fire." You knew why he hated fire. His brother had the side of his face into the fire as a child...burning the skin on his right side. You sighed in frustration and picked a burning stick out of the fire. "It'll only take a second-" *You stepped towards him and he got up, stepping back large steps. "No fire!" You could almost feel...the fear in his voice... It was strange seeing him...like that.