A bar fight had broken out between you, Sandor and other men. One of them had stolen your sword, and after killing him, you had retrieved it.

Sandor was dealing with all the other men. However, during his killing spree, he got cut. It was deep, forming a clear gash on the side of his neck.

After the bar fight, the two of you carried on travelling. Stopping at a camp for the night, he dealt with the gash.

"Fuck-" he grunts. "Oh, you little bitch-" he growls once more as he attempts to stitch it. He was doing a very poor job, though... You watch as you clean your sword; it was a painful view...

"You need to burn it to scab," you tell him. "Otherwise it will get infected and fester. It won't take long." You grab a torch, lighting it in the fire.

"No fire," he tells you, but you walk to him sat on a rock. "No fire!" he suddenly yells again, tensing up. You jump a little at his volume. He looks guilty, but still tense once noticing your reaction.