Good luck redirecting back to Sandor — getting him to confess the details of his life is a little bit like pulling teeth. He's divulged a fair amount, perhaps, to Wanda and Claire — but not nearly so much as either might like, and they rarely make it more than a few questions in before Sandor himself is redirecting. Claire only knows as much as she does thanks to those fucking birds in that shithole dragon volcano. Fuck that place.

AYE, YOU MENTIONED.

Moses, was it? He remembers.

SO YOUR MASTER KICKED THE BUCKET AND YOU DID FUCK-ALL UNTIL YOU GOT HERE AND FOUND A GOD TO WORK FOR? IS THAT IT?

Because he can't see how a killer could just stop killing and do anything else with himself. Sandor's drifted from one charge to another, always finding someone to kill for, always finding people or beasts who deserved to die on their behalf. The longest he's gone since putting his sword through something must've been weeks at best.