The group of grizzled, experienced men walked the lands that lied north of the wall, the air so cold it turned one's mouth dry. They all wore thick layers of wildling clothes, topped with fur to keep the wind out and catch the snow. All Clegane could see was nothing but cold, white, and rocky, snow-capped mountains. He couldn't believe people actually fucking lived up here.

Clegane was walking ahead, trying to get away from Tormund after their conversation, but the crazy fucker kept following him.

"So how did you and Brienne meet?" the ginger asked. He was a fervent man. "I want to know everything about my beauty before I return, so I may impress her with tales of her might."

"Sure, that'll fucking work," Clegane said.

Tormund sniggered. "What is life without a woman to return to? It makes all this miserable shit worth it."

"You're more like the Westerosi than you admit."

"Do you have a lady, Clegane?" Tormund asked.

"When do you shut up?" Clegane retorted, looking at him. Tormund's nose was red, his beard and hair speckled with snow, and his lips cracked.

"We have all the time in the world to talk. And this might be one of our last conversations," Tormund said with hard eyes.

Thoros turned around, with his stupid top knot, and said, "He has a woman. A blonde, like yours."

"He does?" Tormund asked with wide eyes.

"Aye. Lana-"

"Shut the fuck up," Clegane warned.

"Secret is safe with me, Clegane," Tormund said. "Go on, profess it. Probably all going to die anyway, so what does it matter?"

"His lady is Lana, sister to the dragon queen," Thoros said.

Tormund nodded with approval, a gust of frigid air prompting them all to tuck their clothes closer to their body. "Shooting, high, eh, Clegane? Guess I am too, in a different way, with my beautiful giant," Tormund said.

Clegane couldn't tell if he should smack Tormund in the face or not. Maybe that was the only way to silence the ginger. "She will never be with the likes of me. Which is why I am out here, in these barren ass lands with a ginger like you. I don't want to talk 'bout her. About any of it. So, shut up. It's my fucking business."

"Maybe she can make him nicer," Tormund said, and Clegane nearly looked at him like a septa eyeing an unruly lady.

Thoros replied, "I think we have better luck with these lands turning green."

Finally, they all shut up for an hour or so, giving him peace. Although the lands made it hard, the snow crunching underfoot, which was sometimes just chunks of ice. The scenery, if he weren't so damned cold, might have been lovely. The rays were golden, and the reflection on the snow was black and blue.

He tried to keep Lana from his mind, but that was nearly impossible. He kept remembering the softness of her thighs, how wet he had made her, and how much she had wanted him. Gods he had never wanted to fuck a woman so much in his life.

And even though he couldn't stop thinking about how tight she had been, and how he wanted to be the one to take her, it was the way she didn't want him to leave got him the most. Where most women grew tired of his insolence, Lana seemed to give two shits about it, and it was in that that he found his heart aching for her.

He nearly went to finish the job that night, be he remembered her maidenhead. It wouldn't be right to take that before he left. Whatever lord she married would want it, and Sandor didn't want to hurt any potential she had of moving on. He knew that lot far better than she did, and those lords obsessed over virginity like a drunk over wine.

Sometimes, he hated that he cared. He wanted to fuck her bloody, and then fuck her again. But no, he had to go about with caring and shit.

Perhaps it was for the best Varys interrupted them, reminding Clegane that chasing after Lana would be nothing but misery for him in the end.

"So, what is a crow doing with a raven?" Tormund asked Jon, and Clegane eyed the little black bird on Jon's shoulder. "And why's it got three eyes?"

"It's my brother's raven. If we need it, we will send it to Dany for her dragons," Jon Snow said, his black curls striking against the white landscape.

"Why didn't she just come with us? Would have saved a lot of time," Tormund said.

"She's got a war to fight. If she comes here, it will only be because we need her."

"Why not just send it anyway? I'd like to ride a dragon back to the wall."

"We can't demand dragon rides for comfort. Not when she is so far south and is relying on me to do this alone. She is only our last resort."

Tormund turned back to Clegane. "Maybe your lady could fly with her," he said, smiling that cheesy fucking grin.

"They better not. She has no business in these lands," Clegane warned.

"These lands are my home," Tormund said with slight offense.

"Lana is a dragon, not a bloody polar bear," Clegane retorted, and somehow, the mad fucker just ended up laughing, and nodding with approval.

"I have got some stories about bears," Tormund said.

Clegane sighed, just not fucking winning with this one. "Bet you do."

"You want to hear any?"

"I may just have to rip your tongue out if you do."

Tormund recoiled and shook his head. "I'll fight you for it. It's very useful for with the women."

Clegane couldn't hold back and laughed. "Coming from the man that likes dick."

Tormund laughed, and his eyes showed great approval for Clegane.

Seriously, what the fuck was with the end of the world and Sandor suddenly making friends in every corner? Why did people like him now? Or did all the average, honorable men die, and all that was left were the mad fuckers?

The day quickly grew dark, and before they knew it, the temperature completely dropped. The moon and stars gave light, reflecting on the snow while even their bones couldn't stay warm.

They sat close together, and of course, Tormund sat next to Clegane.

As he shivered, from time to time, and closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep with his beard keeping his face warm, he thought of Lana.

He hoped she was safe, and that if he didn't make it out of this, she'd find someone that would make her happy. On most days, he wanted her more than he wanted to kill Gregor. But he knew it was something that would lead to nothing, and indulging would only make it so much worse.