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But that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream.

Hot Pie and Gendry had left her just


as soon as they could, and Lord Beric and the outlaws only wanted to ransom her, just like the
Hound. None of them wanted her around. They were never my pack, not even Hot Pie and
Gendry. I was stupid to think so, just a stupid little girl, and no wolf a t all.
So she stayed with the Hound. They rode every day, never sleeping twice in the same place,
avoiding towns and villages and castles as best they could. Once she asked Sandor Clegane where
they were going. Away,he said. Thats all you need to know. Youre not worth spit to me
now, and I dont want to hear your whining. I should have let you run into that bloody castle.
You should have, she agreed, thinking of her mother.
Youd be dead if I had. You ought to thank me. You ought to sing me a pretty little song,
the way your sister did.
Did you hit her with an axe too?
I hit you with the flat of the axe, you stupid little bitch. If Id hit you with the blade there
d still be chunks of your head floating down the Green Fork. Now shut your bloody mouth. If I
had any sense Id give you to the silent sisters. They cut the tongues out of girls who talk too
much. That wasnt fair of him to say. Aside from that one time, Arya hardly talked at all. Whole
days passed when neither of them said anything. She was too empty to talk, and the Hound was
too angry. She could feel the fury in him; she could see it on his face, the way his mouth would
tighten and twist, the looks he gave her. Whenever he took his axe to chop some wood for a fire,
he would slide into a cold rage, hacking savagely at the tree or the deadfall or the broken limb,
until they had twenty times as much kindling and firewood as theyd needed. Sometimes he
would be so sore and tired afterward that he would lie down and go right to sleep without even
lighting a fire. Arya hated it when that happened, and hated him too. Those were the nights
when she stared the longest at the axe. It looks awfully heavy, but I bet I could swing it. She
wouldnt hit him with the flat, either.
Sometimes in their wanderings they glimpsed other people; farmers in their fields,
swineherds with their pigs, a milkmaid leading a cow, a squire carrying a message down a rutted
road. She never wanted to speak to them either. it was as if they lived in some distant land and
spoke a queer alien tongue; they had nothing to do with her, or her with them.
Besides, it wasnt safe to be seen. From time to time columns of horsemen passed down
the winding farm roads, the twin towers of Frey flying before them. Hunting for stray
northmen, the Hound said when they had passed. Any time you hear hooves, get your head
down fast, its not like to be a friend.
One day, in an earthen hollow made by the roots of a fallen oak, they came face to face with
another survivor of the Twins. The badge on his breast showed a pink maiden dancing in a swirl
of silk, and he told them he was Ser Marq Pipers man; a bowman, though hed lost his bow. His
left shoulder was all twisted and swollen where it met his arm; a blow from a mace, he said, it
had broken his shoulder and smashed his chainmail deep into his flesh. A northman, it was, he
wept. His badge was a bloody man, and he saw mine and made a jape, red man and pink
maiden, maybe they should get together. I drank to his Lord Bolton, he drank to Ser Marq, and
we drank together to Lord Edmure and Lady Roslin and the King in the North. And then he killed
me. His eyes were fever bright when he said that, and Arya could tell that it was true. His
shoulder was swollen grotesquely, and pus and blood had stained his whole left side. There was a
stink to him too. He smells like a corpse. The man begged them for a drink of wine.
If Id had any wine, Id have drunk it myself,the Hound told him. I can give you water,
and the gift of mercy.The archer looked at him a long while before he said, Youre Joffrey
s dog.
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