The next day.
He walked at the front of the Lannister army with 100 riders on each side and 200 on the front.
He looked at his troops and each and every one of them looked tired as they marched forward on empty half stomach with black bags on their eyes.
Last night had been disastrous for them.
The Horse archer troops that he had feared so much had finally arrived and had engaged in a hit and run tactic with Ser Marband and Gregor Clegane's men.
The direwolves had howled throughout the night and had kept the men awake in fear of an immanent attack.
More than a few times, the direwolves snuck in between the scouts and entered their camp, entering tents and ripping the throat of as many men as they could before disappearing into the forest.
Even worse was that the Wyverns that he had once dismissed as the delusions of the mad man were finally here as well.
The Wyverns flew above their tents throughout the night. Sceerching in an unholy manner and dropping head sized stones all over their camp.
More than a few dozen men lost their lives this way but the worst part was the morale.
The loss of sleep and the fear of being attacked from anywhere had chipped away at the morale of his men and he was afraid that if he didn't make a few examples now then he would soon have a mass desertion on his hands.
The worst part of this all however was the fact that the Bolton boy had managed to sneak some of his men into the camp and had burned down most of their food supplies which forced him to ration the food so that they would not run out of food before they even reach Golden Tooth.
So now here they were. Starved of food, sleep and safety.
He clenched the reins of his horse tightly as he heard the howls of the direwolves in the distance.
When he had heard about the defeat of Ser Devan and Ser Lucian in the Riverrun and outside Casterly Rock, he had given credit to the fact that Lord Bolton managed to sneak up on their armies and had used surprise to get the better of them and destroy their armies before they could put up a proper defense.
Now he knew better.
Now he knew just how dangerous Lord Bolton was. And the fact that his reputation, if anything, had been greatly watered down.
With only a thousand men some direwolves and 2 wyverns, Lord Bolton had pressured his army to the point of breaking.
He wanted to give his all against the Tooth in a do or die situation.
Now he was starting to wonder if they would even reach the Golden Tooth at all.
—————
The second night was similar to the first one.
The direwolves kept on howling through out the night and kept his men awake.
The Wyverns still roamed the night sky and threw down rocks upon rocks at his men.
The Horse archers still used the hit and run tactic and kept chipping away at his scouts through out the night.
Gregor Clegane lost his temper during one such hit-and-run and made the mistake of chasing after the horse archers.
He did not return.
Learning of this, his men deserted into the night.
By morning, he had more than a 1000 desertions in his hands and more than a few examples to make.
He knew that one more day of this and his army would finally break.
Fortunately, this was the last time that Lord Bolton and his forces would conduct such night raids on them.
Only later would he learn that this was not him being fortunate but merely a trap laid out by Lord Bolton for him and the rest of his army.