A Hound in the Woods

Bo

Dogs have a way of finding the people who need them, filling an emptiness we don't even know we have.

Sandor found a clearing just outside of the town and leaned up against a tree to rest for the remainder of the night. He would rise with the sun and travel until he got home to his Angharad. The nights were getting colder and longer, but Sandor didn't want to spend the time to find wood or build a fire. He just pulled his cloak tightly around his neck and closed his eyes for the night. 

A cold, wet nose pressed against the back of Sandor's hand. He woke with a start to the chill. It took a few blinks to clear the sleep from his eyes before he could focus on what was touching him. A ragged, skinny, little dog with floppy ears looked up at him. "Go on, dog," Sandor grumbled as he pushed the pup away with the back of his hand.

The puppy yapped at Sandor and trotted back up to his side. He sat next to Sandor and stared at him with big brown eyes. Sandor shook his head looked away. He pulled a piece of dried fish from his satchel to eat before starting the return journey home. He hadn't even finished the first bite before the puppy started to whine. Sandor looked at the mongrel pup and growled. The pup growled back and inched closer to him, licking his chops.

The little dog looked hungry. Hunger was no stranger to Sandor and he felt pity for the dog. He broke off a piece of the dried fish and held it out to the pup who hungrily took it from him. Sandor reached out and scratched the pup behind the ears. The pup had just finished the dried fish and looked back up at Sandor. He tilted his head to the side and lifted a wiry grey paw, asking for more food. 

The corner of Sandor's mouth curled up. He would feel better if they had a dog again and he was called away for some reason. That way, he would have something watching over his little family. His little family. He had to get the copper pot home to Angharad. "Come on then," Sandor took the pup by the scruff of the neck and put him into the pot to carry him home.

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Angharad was grinding dried allheal into a fine powder when she heard him, "Angharad!"

She put the pestle down and ran outside. The sun was setting and the sky was painted with pinks and yellows. She looked to the hill up the path, and there he was. Sandor. Her giant, her other half, her husband. He had the pot tucked under his arm. Angharad ran to meet him. He saw her coming and put the pot down. He scooped her up and spun her around. Her arms gripped around his neck, she smelled of fresh ground herbs. Sandor lowered her to the ground and took in her facial features in the diminishing light. 

"I've got your pot," Sandor said. "And a little something extra."

A yap came from the pot. Angharad gasped. The little dog's head peeked out of the top of the pot, and his feet flopped over the edge. "Who is this?" Angharad reached into the copper pot and lifted the pup out. He was mostly skin and bones, but that could be fixed easily. He squirmed and whined as he licked at Angharad's face. 

"Another stray, since you are so good at collecting us," Sandor watched the pup wriggle in Angharad's arms. He chuckled, the pup loved her already. It wasn't hard.

"Come," Angharad said, tucking the pup into the crook of her arm. "Let's get a hot meal into both of you."

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Angharad stirred the boiling black water in the copper pot. It looked truly wicked, but would do the settlers good if it worked. She had a lot to teach them about staying clean to stay healthy, like digging their latrine far away from their water source, boiling their water to clean it, and washing their hands to prepare food. Angharad took an empty mead pot and began to ladle the medicine in. She sealed the pot with a cork and hefted the heavy container onto her hip. She took it outside and loaded it into her handcart to transport to the settlement.

Sandor was moving a dried tree trunk from the woods to the woodshed. He had the log balanced on his shoulder. A log that would have taken three average men to lift and move. But that was Sandor; larger and stronger than the average man. Angharad smiled at the sight of her giant. The little pup was tied by a length of twine to Sandor's belt. The little dog trotted along side him, ears and tail flopping with each step. Sandor tossed the log from his shoulder to the pile of logs that he would chop for firewood.

He wiped the sweat from his brow and approached Angharad. "Ready?" he asked.

"Yes," Angharad pulled the knot for the pups lead loose. She looked up at Sandor. His beard was getting longer. She laced her fingers into the hairs at his chin and pulled him down for a kiss. His moustache tickled her nose. "Let's go."

Sandor lifted the handle of the cart and pushed it for her. They walked in their usual silence to the settlement. They had crested the hill when he asked, "What will you call him?"

"I don't know, what would you call him?"

Sandor shook his head, "I wouldn't know how to name him. I would just call him dog."

"That won't do," Angharad looked down at the wire haired pup walking between them. "How do you like Pike?"

"No," Sandor countered. "You can't mount a severed head on a dog."

Angharad twisted her face to Sandor. Many of the details of his life before he came to her were a mystery to her. She was curious but not enough to pry and dredge up old memories. She didn't like the way Sandor's eyes went dark when he spoke of Kings Landing. "What about Bo?"

Sandor thought for a moment. Bo could work. It was simple and short. "Bo," Sandor repeated. The little dog looked up at him.

"Bo," Angharad said. The pup turned and looked at her. He let out a sharp little bark. Angharad smiled. "I think he likes it."