That he singled out Sandor Clegane, the Hound, his deputy commander, for compliments was solely due to merit. The Hound had more than earned it, final...y facing his dread of flames to help throw back the enemy. This was the same fear that had made him panic at the Battle of Blackwater Bay, but he had since steeled himself to the peril, at least in part due to wine.Even so, he had to struggle with it, forcing himself to stay calm and not run or shit himself in abject terror of fire. Tormund knew. Using her middle finger, she pressed inward, causing her petals to open. She was wet and not from the ocean. Exploring deeper, it felt good to probe her sheath; to be filled. Leaning back on her elbow, she let her legs fall all the way open. The next wave crashed to shore, covering her in warm, salty brine. It seemed to stay a bit longer before rushing back. She was now sitting in a warm puddle of water. The tide was in. Not enough to cover her fully, the water gently lapped at her flushed. More

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