*sees him wipe the blood off the sword* So he did fight with it. *is lifted so carefully, rests gratefully against his shoulder, until another wave of pain absorbs his thoughts*

*hears Arathorn's joke and manages to stifle a laugh because he knew that would hurt and result in his crying out which would in turn make the ranger feel guilty, so smiles back at his grin instead, is touched by his sweet kiss*

*now that he knew Arathorn had fought with the Warg, he wonders as he watches where they are going* Are you unhurt? Is it dead or run off?