A Hound in the Woods

Suspicions

Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

The remedies seemed to be working. Less and less people were sick and soon the men of the settlement was going to start to build their sept. 

"We could use your help, if you can spare the time," Ray proposed to Sandor. His strength and size would certainly help get a head start on the heavy lifting and hard work of the construction. Sandor swung the axe down on a log. It split easily under the heavy swing. 

"Expect me in the morning," Sandor said simply between swings. There was plenty of wood cut for now at the house. The settlers were pretty pathetic, they would be lucky to survive the winter, but it would be cruel to not help them and watch them suffer. A sept wouldn't keep them fed or warm in the clutches of winter. It was foolish to think that seven so called gods would help them when they have never done anything to prove that they would answer their prayers.

"Wonderful!" Ray exclaimed. "We'll keep you fed during the day, and we can discuss payment over supper tonight." Ray left Sandor and went to catch up with Angharad in the cottage.

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"How are you my dear? It seems like I see less of you these days."

Angharad used the new knife Sandor had gotten her to score the loaf of bread before she baked it in the cast iron pot by the fire. "I am well. Winter is coming, there is work to do." She put the lid on the pot and scooped coals from the fire onto the lid. 

"That it is," Ray bent down and scooped Bo up from the ground. He held the wriggling pup and looked him over. "I spoke to Sandor, he will be helping us begin work on the sept tomorrow."

Angharad kept working in the kitchen. They had enough to last for a majority of the winter, and Sandor could do good helping the settlers. "What can I do?" She asked, wiping the counter free of flour with her apron. 

Bo chewed on Ray's calloused finger. Ray noticed something different about Angharad. He couldn't quite place his finger on it. It was subtle, and not something he could see. It was something like a fleeting feeling. She seemed fulfilled. Ray refocused, "Keep this little snapper out from under foot," he said pulling his finger from the pup's mouth. He set Bo back down on the floor only for the wily pup to jump up and down trying to get back onto Ray's lap.

"Bo, bed," Angharad commanded. Bo stood on his back legs, front legs braced against Ray. His grey brown head lolled back to look at Angharad. Angharad put her hands on her hips and stared back at the pup with an unwavering look. "Bed."

Bo snorted and got down from Ray's leg. Angharad took an antler piece that she had found and brought the pup to the basket by the hearth. He chomped  at the antler and chewed at it in his bed. Ray laughed, he thought that The Hound would be a challenge for Angharad, but this little whelp was the one to challenge her. "Oooh, he's got a spirit to him doesn't he?" 

"He'll be a good dog," she said leaning against the table, "he's still young. It will just take stern patience."

"Aye, and you are good at that. He's in good hands with you." Ray took a drink of water from his cup. "If you feel the need, you could help the women folk with their sewing. They are making clothes for everyone for the winter." 

"Of course, Sandor and I will be at the settlement in the morning."

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Angharad woke first. Sandor's arm was draped over her waist. He was warm and Angharad laid next to him for a few minutes more. His chest rose and fell steadily against her back. His beard brushed against the back of her neck. He made her feel so safe, so loved. She sighed, satisfied with her life and snuck out from under his arm. When she rose, her head started to swim. A hint of nausea waved over Angharad. She squeezed her eyes against it and let it pass.