Game of Thrones cast auditions | Exclusive Blu-Ray Hidden Dragon Eggs
Harry Lloyd [x]
Jason Momoa [x]
Maisie Williams [x]
Miltos Yerolemou [x]
Sophie Turner [x]
Rory McCann [x]Well fuck you HBO for not giving Sandor this scene in the show.
Seriously! What a shame.
The Hound, killing the heck out of some guy, in the new Seven Devils trailer.

Sandor Clegane, the Hound, in the new First Look trailer.
Fury: Lots of good stuff. I like this part:
“I think in the first season you can see with Sandor and Sansa, that there’s a frustration with Sandor trying to get through to Sansa that it’s not all fairytale and true knights and there’s so much badness in the world. But, by the end of the first season, obviously she’s seen… her father having his head cut off. So she’s maybe seen the light now, but I think there’s still a frustration of trying to [get her to] see the reality of the whole situation. It’s giving advice to Sansa for survival, basically.”
And this:
“I’ve done quite a lot of swashbuckling kind of films where all the actors ‘round me have their swords out… and my favorite [thing to do] is to tie all their swords up with fishing line, so when they take out the swords, it’s all over the place. It’s funny the first time…”
For the whole article, go HERE

Rory McCann is ok but the Hound leaves me aching so bad with desire.

(Hound scenes that HBO kept in Game of Thrones)
06/15 - THE PART IN WHICH THE DAY WAS NOT WHOLLY WASTED ;_;He was walking back to the tower to give himself up to sleep at last when Sandor Clegane and his riders came pounding through the castle gate, back from their hunt.
There was something slung over the back of his destrier, a heavy shape wrapped in a bloody cloak. “No sign of your daughter, Hand,” the Hound rasped down, “but the day was not wholly wasted. We got her little pet.” He reached back and shoved the burden off, and it fell with a thump in front of Ned.
Bending, Ned pulled back the cloak, dreading the words he would have to find for Arya, but it was not Nymeria after all. It was the butcher’s boy, Mycah, his body covered in dried blood. He had been cut almost in half from shoulder to waist by some terrible blow struck from above.
“You rode him down,” Ned said.
The Hound’s eyes seemed to glitter through the steel of that hideous dog’s-head helm. “He ran.” He looked at Ned’s face and laughed. “But not very fast.”