Jeroihan stumbled out of his tent in the pre-dawn gloom, stretching out his tired muscles and cracking his knuckles. He yawned loudly and pulled a pair of apples from Gwaloth's saddle. Giving one to the horse, he unsheathed his knife and sliced a shard of flesh from the fruit. He popped the apple piece in his mouth and grabbed a stray bucket, heading for the small creek close to the camp outside the walls of Edoras. He filled the bucket to the brim and poured the icy water over his head, shivering slightly under the icy deluge. "It's a little cold for a bath, isn't it?" Jeroihan turned and saw Ruby in a modest night robe, leaning against the tree and smiling at him. "It's the best cure for a hangover." He grinned suddenly and stooped to fill the bucket again. Ruby noticed the mischievous glint in his eye and quickly took shelter behind the tree. "Don't even think about it!" She peered from around the tree as Jeroihan sighed sarcastically and reluctantly emptied the bucket. He grinned roguishly and walked back to the camp, Ruby in tow. He sat down inside his tent, and turned to see Ruby waiting outside. "I should really get back to my lords." Ruby glanced down as she spoke. Jeroihan lay back, his head resting in his hands as he replied. "Half an hour couldn't hurt lass." Ruby shook her head and smiled at him as she turned to leave. "I suppose I'll see you again tonight. If you're lucky" She turned her head to give him a smouldering look before she disappeared. Jeroihan smiled and relaxed, before falling back to sleep.
"Enjoy yourself last night brother?" Jeroihan opened one eye lazily as Calathorn peered in through his tent. "As a matter of fact I did. Are we leaving yet?" Jeroihan got up and out of the tent, stretching once again. Calathorn looked backwards over his shoulder. "Unlikely. It's not likely you to sleep for so long." Jeroihan smirked and began to get dressed. Calathorn crossed his arms and spoke again, his amusement colouring his tone. "So? Aren't you going to tell me anything at all?" Jeroihan stared at him and kept quiet, a smirk pulling at his mouth. "Fine, be like that." Calathorn rolled his eyes and walked off. Jeroihan sighed and called Harrisil over. "Go find out what the Gondor nobles are doing. I want to know when we need to move." Harrisil nodded and headed away from the rest of the Rangers. Hagrabad appeared behind him, speaking in the quiet manner he always did. "You expect to be moving soon, sir?" Jeroihan glanced at him, then back in the direction Harrasil had gone. He shook his head. "No. They'll have decided to help each other almost as soon as we got here. What's taking them so long is getting as much as they can out of the deal." Hagrabad shook his head. "That's hardly a way to treat another man sir. What's the world coming to?" Jeroihan shrugged. "It was easier when honour and dignity were as much a part of politics as double-crossing and treachery is. That was a long time ago though Hagrabad." The older Ranger looked quizzically at Jeroihan for a moment. "Why don't you become a king, sir? Even the right old Steward of Gondor must have started life as a whelp, even if it were the guts of a century ago." Jeroihan snorted in response. "The nobles would never accept a low-born like me, Hagrabad. They stare down their noses at us already. Tell the men to set some traps Hagrabad, and nock an arrow. We need to rustle up some breakfast and I'm not stealing a damned apple for a meal." The two Rangers unsheathed their bows and pulled up their dark green hoods. "Aye sir." Hagrabad nodded and smiled, before rushing to the centre of the camp and gathering the men to hunt.
An hour later, Corandor and Torgathorn were turning a small boar over a fire and Hagrabad was showing Perkerin show to properly pluck and skin a pheasant. Jeroihan and Calathorn were stood of the edge of the camp, keeping watch for Harrisil's return. Jeroihan had decided against sending Calathorn to find Harrisil, assuming the man's natural shrewdness would prove more effective than Calathorn's somewhat blunt tendencies. Lost in thought about what the men of Gondor were up to, he missed a shadow emerging in the distance. Calathorn punched him in the shoulder and told him "Wake up, Harrisil's back." As the man approached, Jeroihan and Calathorn moved to meet him. Harrisil was out of breath and keeled over before speaking. "They're done negotiating. They're getting ready to move right now sir." Jeroihan nodded before handing Harrisil a wineskin and said "Good work, there's a meal waiting at camp." Harrisil caught his breath and nodded before leaving. Jeroihan turned to Calathorn and scratched his jaw. "I wonder when they were going to tell us." Calathorn shrugged in response. "Probably as they were going. Where are we going next?" Jeroihan pointed north. "We're going to see the dwarves next. Get the men ready to move, we leave now."