The girl's frail body visibly trembled. "A septa taught me. I studied with her when I was little, and later... later..."
The Hound showed not the slightest pity as he coldly pressed, "Later what?"
The girl shrank back. "I heard that the new rulers of the Riverlands would reward those who could read, give us work that would keep us fed, but... later... they didn't want me. They said I was a... monster, and sent me to the Sept."
Deathly silence filled the air. The girl did not even dare breathe too heavily. Then, the vicious man standing before her suddenly seized her by the throat.
His callused hand was like an iron clamp.
She felt that with the slightest exertion, this man could snap her neck like a dead branch. Terror nailed her in place, leaving her without even the courage to struggle.
His eyes, ringed by twisted scars, swept over her. His voice was hoarse yet calm. "Death can put an end to all your suffering..."
A ragged sound squeezed from the girl's throat, carrying a trace of relief. "Perhaps... you're... right... Thank you..."
Then she slowly closed her eyes, as though waiting to fall into the Stranger's embrace.
"I guarantee you'll be satisfied."
Before the Hound had finished speaking, Sansa's somewhat urgent voice reached them. "No, please stop."
The large hand abruptly released her. The girl fell straight to the ground, and the Hound turned to look at Sansa.
Sandor Clegane's face beneath his lowered visor was a mangled ruin, as terrifying as ever. Sansa could not help drawing a quiet breath. "Ser Clegane, she—Rodan—is pitiful. House Stark will never harm the innocent."
The Hound was silent for a moment before slowly speaking. "Her identity is still suspicious."
Sansa shook her head with a resolute expression. "But