((Edited RP log))
Torchanar stirred the broth with his knife, watching as the desiccated meat and berries swelled to pulpy soft and he added more water. "It is not ideal but for now I dare not move you. The storm passed but there is still the smell of snow in the air, clouds gather in the north."
He stood up after pouring the broth off and brought a tin mug to Rowan, "It's hot. Take care."
He took his own meal of the cooked meat with a piece of hard travel bread soaked in the juices. "You are not far from Esteldin, perhaps you can make it. I could bring a healer to you as well but you are right, this is not a place for a sick man."
Gratefully Rowan took the mug offered, the gloves keeping him from burning himself as he cupped it between the palm of his hands and brought it up. The hunger pains made themselves known again as he inhaled the scent of the broth but at least some wit remained which kept him from drinking too quickly and only add another ailment to his current state.
He paused at the mention of Esteldin and then nodded "Perhaps..." He muttered quietly, blowing into the mug to cool the surface of the broth before allowing himself a small sip "If a healer could be brought up here... I would be grateful." He swallowed another small sip of the broth, winching from the soreness. "Thank you... Again. Whether it is.. Dumb luck or.. If the Valar guided you.... I may have a chance now." He raised his gaze to meet Torchanar again. "Perhaps I shall be able... To repay you."
Torchanar sat near the fire to eat some of the dinner, casting a glance now and then at the man. His scrutiny was not obvious but it was there. At Rowan's words he waved his hand, "It is my duty to my brethren. As it would be yours. Those markings were no idle accident, Rowan. And worry not, I'll not leave you to cough yourself to death."
Once he was finished, he wiped his mouth and leaned back, fishing out his pipe then thought better of it considering his companion's condition.
"I know only of those in Esteldin, I could fetch one here tomorrow."
Rhaug nodded slowly and sipped on the broth again, the man remaining silent for a short while they ate. "The scent would be welcomed." He muttered as he shifted in place, "If any shall come... I would be thankful." Another sip and his eyes shut, forcing the simple meal down despite the sharp pain it caused, "What orc do you follow?"
Torchanar packed the bowl of the pipe with some of the last of the East Farthing and lit it with a twig from the fire. Taking a few puffs, he blew a ring of smoke thoughtfully before speaking, "I'm certain at least one will come. As for the orc, I picked up the trail east of Fornost, heading north by northwest. Most certainly towards Angmar as we know they're leaking out of that place like rain through an old roof. No doubt carrying a message to his masters.”
"Have you caught ... Many of these... Scouts?"
Torchanar replied, "A few, not enough I'm sure. We're stretched very thin especially now that many answered our chieftain's call for aid in the South. We've fought the orcs before, scared them back to their black holes but that never lasts long. The presence of their filth is growing closer to civilized lands...I could not bear to abandon my post, even for his summons. I'll pay the price if there is a later."
The ranger looked over at the sick man, scrutinizing his appearance behind the scruffy beard and dirt. "Rowan, eh? Must be like the tree, changing with the seasons. It is winter now, perhaps you would be best to lay bare your secrets. I am kin, there's no reason to hide yourself from me and yet you do."
Rhaug tugged the cloak closer and stared at the flames, welcoming the heat even if the smoke from it was irritating his throat "Why do you.. Believe I hide?" He replied quietly, his eyes closing for a long time then opening again to regard his company.
Torchanar watched him and then shrugged off the heavy white fur cloak. He stood up and crossed over, laying it on Rhaug's shoulders with an unspoken understanding he would have greater need of its warmth. His wool cloak would suffice.
He squatted down next to him, his dark gray eyes almost black in the fire light. "You give your travel name. You know the marks of a ranger yet miss the caches, you are not very familiar with these lands yet you have skill enough to find hidden shelter. I don't recognize you from Esteldin but there is something..." Rubbing his chin he paused, then said, "You are no Hillman or Breelander. No southeron. You are Dunedain, as I am."
"I am. I did not deny such." He replied offering a light nod in thanks as the added fur gave his head a better rest against the hard wall behind him "The name I have given you... Is the name I use. That.. Is no lie." He met Torchanar's gaze and there was indeed truth in his words. "I'd prefer if the other name is not spoken... If you do not mind."
Torchanar looked at him a few moments longer before nodding and he returned to his side of the fire. "If you insist," he said, then after a moment spoke again. "Pardon my suspicion. There are those that come and go, claiming to know our business but they are clearly not our kin. That I am wary of, but it seems not so with you."
He smoked a while longer, glancing now and then towards the mouth of the cave. When the light grew fainter he rose and took up his bow and sword, "Keep the fur, stay warm I shan't be long. I'll take another look around before we settle for the night."
"Your suspicion is well placed." He swallowed hard, wincing faintly as he did. Leaving the matter there for now he watched Torchanar and nodded slowly "Keep safe.... The land is harsh... And enemies are around." Closing his eyes his tension slowly faded "Beware of the shadows..."
