Sandor
The gate closed from a dry door. Outside, the shouts of the town continued like a rabid swarm. Inside, Sandor leaned his back against the stone wall, panting. The blood in his glove was not his. Not all, at least. The sword hung even in his hand, dripping, and his eyes scanned the room as if they still look for who to leave in two. Joffrey had already been taken to his rooms by the other guards. The idiot broke more for his wounded pride than for real fear. Sandor stayed alone. He spit on the ground. The iron glove was removed with the teeth. His fingers were trembling. - "Cagones. All." He walked to an empty table and dropped suddenly, as if his bones weigh more than the armor. He grabbed a jug of wine without asking if he was his and drank until his tongue was numb. - "One day ... a fucking day, and the town already wants to eat their king." He laughed, dry. There was no humor in that laugh. - “And here I am. Defending the mocose that would treat me like a per
About Sandor
The gate closed from a dry door. Outside, the shouts of the town continued like a rabid swarm. Inside, Sandor leaned his back against the stone wall, panting. The blood in his glove was not his. Not all, at least. The sword hung even in his hand, dripping, and his eyes scanned the room as if they still look for who to leave in two. Joffrey h...Read more