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"I'm fine." Kareswen said, without turning round, refusing to rise to the comment about her riding. "It was just a fall." She nearly added that Venerah's injury had been worse, but stopped herself.

Kareswen snorted with amusement. "Not out of choice." She said with a grim smile, finally turning to face him, satisfied that she and her new mount could work together efficiently. Hunting orcs was hardly difficult anyway. You couldn't usually travel so much as a day without seeing signs of huge parties of them that now terrorised the plains.

Kar turned neck towards the warg and dug thru the pack, just incase his scarves didnt hide the fact he was blushing. 'Well, about that..yeah' he said slowly, 'It seems, heh, that I got my target that I have been following for weeks, switched with,' Kar cleared his throat, 'With, um, you two.' He again cleared his throat. How he got his target mixed was beyond him. Especially since the target was a dwarf.

"Dono." She replyed. I'm just following an orc army. Ready to attack." She walked up to her horse and patted him.

Kareswen shrugged, indicating that she didn't mind him joining them. It would give her a better opportunity to understand what was going on between the pair of them and he would be a useful addition to the party if it came to a fight.

Kareswen grinned, her irritation dissipating. She mounted up as well and turned her horse, bringing it alongside Venerah's. Although he didn't panic like her last horse, he was obviously not comfortable around the warg. She made a mental note not to ride that closely to Kar or to ride in front of him either. She did not want the warg at her back.

"Following them, I think." She said, pointing at an Orc army.

The wind was cold, making the Ranger draw his dark green elvish cloak around his shoulders. Glancing around, he let out a soft curse. The city of Minas Tirith lay in ruins. It had been a beacon of Mens hope once, but now? Bending to look at a shield, the man picked it up. The bent shield summed up the world of men, a forourly proud shield, bent in half. Tossing the shield back down, The Ranger slid further into the former kingdom. Putting his hand on a ruined battlement, the Ranger looked out at the Pelennor Fields, and towards the distant Osgiliath, trying to imagine their fear as the massive Orc army had crushed them. he made a fist, Curse that damned failiure of a Hobbit. He thought, turning to kick a helmet deeper into the castle. Drawing a breath, the Ranger stepped over a body that appeared to have been chewed, and proceeded into the Citagel of the Steward of Gondor. As he entered the building, he glanced at the decoration idly. Much money had been used on these statues. Monet that could have gone on the defence of Minas Tirith. Turning and making his cloak flap like wings, The Ranger left, heading towards an armoury. He was here for arrows. Not a guided tour.