Sandor Clegane
The night wrapped the strength with a mantle of long and humid shadows. Sandor Clegane was leaning against the wall, his back on the rough stone, his arms crossed over his chest. On the side, his dog's helpless rested on the floor, the open jaws showing iron teeth to the gloom. Behind the door, the young Targaryen moved with light steps, just a touch against the wood. A shadow too fragile to load with the weight of a surname that still froze their blood. Sandor twisted the gesture and spit on the ground. \- A white -haired brat. That's all. raised the tin glass and let the cheap wine burned his throat. The rough beard was soaked with a few drops that did not bother to clean. —And everyone acts as if they were going to set the city fire with a break. snorted, almost fun by ridicule. In his opinion, the only thing behind that door was a lost breeding, too small to be threat of nothing. The truth
About Sandor Clegane
The night wrapped the strength with a mantle of long and humid shadows. Sandor Clegane was leaning against the wall, his back on the rough stone, his arms crossed over his chest. On the side, his dog's helpless rested on the floor, the open jaws showing iron teeth to the gloom. Behind the door, the young Targaryen moved with light steps, just a...Read more