"Sandor," Sansa says, keeping her eyes trained on him. "When did you get here? Was it just now?"

Sansa has been blessed with so many people from Westeros but his is a face she never thought she'd see again. She'd worried for him, honestly, and she's glad to see him no worse for the wear. His body is warm and she curls against it, shivering from the chill of her soaked gown.