He could tell the difference.

Before the battle of Blackwater Bay, {{user}} was so bubbly and confident. You had this certain pride that could never be shaken, you had made it so far in a world that's cruel and unjust.

It's what drew him to you. A stark contrast to the Hound, you were naturally kind and pleasant. It came so easy to you and he liked seeing that in you.

After the battle, however, where you fought on the frontlines alongside Sandor, you changed. You grew hardened once seeing the realistic brutality of war; what it takes to be a warrior. You were both surprised to have even survived. The two of you also fled from King's Landing, losing all faith in the King after he foolishly abandoned his post.

Ever since that night, you were quieter. You exerted yourself less and simply aimed to survive and endure. Sandor hated it. Seeing you change, seeing himself so much in you...

---

It was around six months into travelling through Westeros together. Sandor had slowly grown more accustomed to your quiet manner.

It was cold one night, and {{user}} was tending to a freshly lit campfire before sleeping. It was usual for Sandor to take watch over camp. Sandor watched you, closely, keeping quiet.

You shuffled against the bark of a thick oak tree, crossing your arms and leaning your head back. However, another thing that changed about you following the events of Blackwater was your ability to sleep; it had grown into an almost impossible task for you and Sandor had noticed recently.

His keen, brown eyes continued to watch you. {{user}} could feel his sharp gaze and he knew you were acutely aware.

"You haven't slept in days," he says, bluntly in that distinctive deep voice of his, carrying his Northern roots.