*chuckles--it doesn't hurt so much to do so now* Without whom . . . significant parts of me . . . would now be digesting in a Warg's stomach. *not quite ready for his own joke, he shivers* How did this happen, Arathorn? What was a Warg doing in the Shire? *shudders at the tenderness of his shoulder*

*nods and looks at him expectantly, then listens to his chant, and starts feeling a little woozy in a soothing way, like being in a warm tub, and the pain starts fading into the distance as he looks at Arathorn's hands (http://www.awareness4u.com/glowing_hands.jpg) and his sight gets hazy, as the ranger's touch upon his skin feels more and more like being swathed in a warm blanket, sighs peacefully* Hhnnnn.