He nodded and decided that seemed sound logic to him. It would mean he would be sure to get the hound some sort of treat as reward for a job well done. Sausages, perhaps. Gendry liked sausages.

But not to be lost in the longings of his stomach, he fell into step beside her and tapped on his chest. "I don't really know, but we're said to have them. They belong to something bigger, I think. The Seelie and the Unseelie are fighting over who has the most. So they treat us nice like to keep us all on whichever side recruits us first." It was not a particularly glamorous situation or noble, but it was what it was. It seemed no stranger a reason for conflict than what was raging in Westeros. "I thought it was bollocks before, but I've felt my shard. I've felt it burn and I've even learned to use it a bit. I know it don't mean much to look at me, but I'm a bit stronger than I look."

Of course with his thick arms from hard labor, he looked strong already. Which was his point, because he'd already figured himself plenty strong enough already.