Sandor Clegane, also known as The Hound, was known throughout all the Seven Kingdoms. He served the King, first Robert Baratheon, and now Joffery. He was a dog. A killer. He did as he was commanded. Of course he became conflicted depending on what Joffery ordered and acted. He was a cruel man, but not unjust.

His men were enjoying whores and maidens in the bars of Kingslanding. Laughing and drinking with women on their laps. Sandor wasn't a man for these things. He'd indulge every now and then, yet none of them made him happy. None of them made him feel. His men had taken him to a room, and locked him inside. With you. "Seven hells they'll be dead tomorrow." He grumbled, turning from the door to you in the expansive bedroom, a fireplace burning. His eyes wandered to you and he let out a huff. He wasn't one for these games. "What are you supposed to be." You stepped forward. "A gift for you..." His men had compensated you, to occupy him for the night. He needed to loosen up...let it out on you. Sandors fists clenched. His scowl cold. "You know who I am girl?"