#wildling!oc

Sandor hated it here but it was better than King's Landing at least, he missed the septry at times. The community of brothers that had healed and fed him, he was faceless there. Just a man, a nobody. Building their sept as a form of payment, what else could he have done? Where else could he have gone anyway? The brute was wanted and too many people knew his face, not like you could miss it. A man with a burnt face, very short and to the point when it came to his description. The Eastwatch felt quiet considering the circumstances, he wasn't too sure as to why he even went along with it. Fucking Thoros of Myr and his walking corpse friend, Beric Dondarrion. At least they made it, until that ginger cunt spotted them crossing the Gift and brought them here.

"How long have we been in here?" Thoros wondered outloud, Sandor just stared at the bars of the cage they had been put in. For safe keeping apparently.

"Why don't you just ask those fuckers out there?" He grumbled. And damn campfire, that is what brought him here. The dead walking, the end of the realms. Those things would take the north, then they would keep moving. Next it would be crossing the sea, taking everything beyond it. There'd be no soft earth left to bury him in when this was all over. He had unfinished business with his brother, what was left of him anyway.

Horns were blowing, loud and long. They could hear the wildlings hollering, rapid footsteps all above them and just outside the cells.

"Something's here." Beric took a deep breath, blowing warm air into his hands.

"What gave it away?" Sandor rolled his eyes, Thoros chuckled and patted the burnt man's shoulder. Telling him to lighten up.

Lighten up? Have they seen where they were? A frozen wasteland, nothing but ice. The three men were startled by a deep roar of an animal, it was coming from outside. There was laughter and hurried shouts in the old tongue of the wildlings. The language of the first men as it was known. Those bastards are obsessed with all that.

A guard, a grey and weathered old wildling opened the cell door and ordered them to go outside. That the king crow would see them now, Sandor and his travelling companions hesitated for a moment. Unarmed in a strange place. The wildling slams the cell door shut and points to the door again, seemingly cursing in the old tongue. Sandor simply guessed at it, wouldn't surpise him. Beric and Thoros exited the hold and stepped out into the snow with Sandor following behind.

"Is that a fucking bear?" Sandor stared on, spotting by the main gates a huge bear. Possibly reaching fifteen feet at the very least, white as the snow. Breathing heavily in the cold air, next to it stood a man dressed in black. Jon Snow, the bastard of Winterfell.

"Aye." Thoros said, there was a flash of something akin to fright in his eyes. The nerves were unstable in that one. A miserable old drunk who likes to bring back dead men for fun. Sandor had threatened to kill Thoros if the man brought him back for any reason.

"Big." The word seemed to slip out of his mouth, his attention moved from the panting bear's face to its back. There was movement up there, he squints his eyes as the figure sat up. A wildling, riding a bear?

The hood that obscured the bear rider's face is blown back by the wind, revealing their face. A woman, lightly colored hair. A frown deeply etched into her face, she shouts something he couldn't understand. Sandor saw the ginger wildling with the beard, the one that had spotted them first, arguing back with the woman. The bear didn't seem to like what was happening as it let out a roar right in the ginger man's face, blowing his hair and beard in different directions. Thoros snorts at the sight of the man stiffening up and beelining for Jon Snow. The woman laughs heartily, digging her hands into the fur on the bear's head, scratching it like one would a dog.

"Never seen such a thing..." Beric is impressed.

Sandor wanted that thing to stay as far away from him as possible. Their eyes met briefly, her blue ones against his brown. She holds the connection before breaking away, tugging the bears ear to make him turn.

"Quite a woman eh?" Thoros snorts, watching the bear rider maneuver the bear like horse.