「The Hound and The Vulture 」
Third person reader-insert! With the farmhouse behind them, the pair is left with one question looming over them: what comes next? Though she wonders what the hell happened in that loft the other night, the vulture can’t help but think…could it happen again? It seems the Hound may be wondering the same thing.
Contains: Reluctant pining, light teasing, masturbation, mature situations
Tags: @lunnybunny12 @supervalcsi
Notes: This part is a little shorter than the others because it’s in between two larger parts! Still….👀 Hope you all enjoy, and THANK YOU for your kind comments and messages! These mean the world to me!
The farmer bought the chestnut mare for ten Silver Stags. He’d offered five Silver Stags, but the Hound said he’d sooner kill the horse and cook it for meat than sell it for five. The farmer cursed at him and called him a thief for demanding such a high price for an obviously stolen horse, but the farmer caved in the end.
She was sad to see the horse go. Even if the mare had slowed them down, it had been good for carrying a bundle of furs, a soup kettle, and an extra saddlebag of miscellaneous trinkets scavenged up from alongside the road. The horse was no different than anything else, though, and the vulture knew it. She’d scavenged the horse from a dead man just like she had with knives and boots and wineskins and lockets of silver and rusted swords. So they rode off short one horse, one bundle of furs, and one soup kettle, but ten stags richer.
When the night came, they sheltered at an old barn, as they’d grown accustomed to. As with most other barns found in war-torn Westeros, it was abandoned. Briars and bushes grew around the barn, rife with blackberries and thick with thorns. It was theirs for the taking, and when the vulture sat poking at the fire, she couldn’t help but wonder What comes next?
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