lannister, tywin

"Tywin jabbed the knife into the deer’s gut. He pushed the knife in forcefully, feeling the flesh rip and the bones break. He inhaled sharply, keeping the typical blank look on his face. It had become a permanent thing since he was twenty and had to step up to be the man. He had learned to smile when he was married to the love of his life, however that was ruined the day that little beast was born. Tywin forced the knife in harder, his facial expression not breaking. He dragged the knife down the belly, ripping it out once the line was long enough. Tywin had little time to himself lately and quite frankly, he enjoyed being busy. Keeping his mind alive and in the game. Keeping busy with political matters and his family’s position, kept him from reflecting on things that he did not want to reflect on. Which was saying something for him. It was very rare for Tywin to find a thought or idea that disturbed him. He was willing to think of anything to keep his family’s legacy and name intact. However the thought of his dead wife and that dwarf of a son, that was something he didn’t like thinking of. Despite Tyrion stepping up and being one of the only ones keeping their house position stable, Tywin still wished the boy gone. Tywin set the knife aside and methodically rolled his sleeves up. He slipped his fingers into the hole and in a smooth move he yanked the belly open. Blood dripped from his hands and the innards. Tywin felt his mouth twitch, threatening to smile as he stared at dinner for the night."