The Hound and His Little Bird

Chapter Seventeen: Admittance

"I should really clean out these wounds with some wine, Sandor," Sansa insisted as she wiped off his chest with a warm washing cloth. He needed many, many stitches across his chest and biceps. He was extremely drunk off of the wine and he snarled at her when she tried to boil any to clean the wounds. He had chugged most of the wine as they'd been riding and now he finished off what little was left. He threw the empty flask on the ground. She closed her eyes in frustration and counted to ten.

They had fled out to the forest following the battle with Polliver and the Tickler. The Inn Keeper hadn't chased them out, but Sansa could clearly see what everyone saw as soon as she looked at them. She was afraid they would try to sell her off, back to King's Landing. The Hound had a different idea as to why they had to leave ("The Mountain is here somewhere close. We gotta get out, Little Bird. You DO NOT want to meet that cunt."). After paying for a collection of food and an extra flask of wine (the Inn Keeper couldn't be persuaded to give out any more and Sansa wouldn't let him use force to get some), Sandor had gotten onto Stranger, and she onto Malia and they left as quickly as they could. Once they were far enough into the forest, Sansa pulled Malia up next to Stranger. She saw the blood soaking his ripped tunic and insisted they should stop. He almost argued with her, but it was clear he wouldn't be able to sit up on Stranger much longer.

Now, she didn't know what to do with him. She had nothing to clean his wounds with, except boiled water, and she didn't feel like that was sanitary enough. He had a different opinion about it altogether. When she refused to start stitching on him immediately, he tried doing it himself. She scolded him, took the needle out of his hand, and had him rest up against the tree. She used a washing cloth and the boiled water to wipe off the wounds as best as she could, ignoring his cursing as she pressed the needle under the surface of the skin and came out back on the other side. His first gash, diagonally across his chest, required ten stitches alone. It hadn't been deep, but Sansa didn't dare let anything stay open for possible infection. The second gash, on his torso, was a bit deeper and was still bleeding a bit. She almost decided to wait and let the wound finish draining, but she worried more that he might end up bleeding out if she didn't close it up.

After a bit of contemplation, she decided to leave it be just a few more minutes and focused on the wound to his bicep. It was deep, but it had stopped bleeding. She wiped at it with another cloth, until the skin was clean and the wound didn't look dirty. She stitched it up quickly, totaling six more. The last gash she could see was across his back and by far the largest. It stretched from his shoulder all the way to his lower back. The wound was mildly deep, but not so bad that she was too concerned.

It was the worst one to stitch. She wished they hadn't used all the Milk of the Poppy for her wounds. Sandor twitched and growled and snapped at her every time she pressed in the needle. She wiped at the wound between each stitch, ignored his cursing, and finally had him lean against a tree so she could get his torso. By this point, the wine had kicked in and he'd stopped cursing her. His torso totaled in 8 stitches and looked a bit messier than the rest of her work. She hoped it would help him heal up quicker.

She couldn't get him up on his feet, much less onto a horse. With a sigh, she got up and grabbed all three cloaks they had stashed in the packs and the sleeping mat. After a bit of prodding (he was pretty docile at this point), Sandor was sprawled out across the mat and covered with his old White cloak. She tucked his extra one under his head.

The sky had gotten dark at this point and the chill had started to set in. She was quick to tie up Malia and Stranger, even though the war horse rarely left his Master's side, then went about collecting up a pile of wood for the fire. She wanted to keep them as warm as possible for as long as possible while he rested. She wondered if he would care that she curled up with him for the night...