"Steady, Brandybuck. Steady. There's my boy." Éowyn reaches past Bacopa to pat the horse's neck affectionately, relieved. He shifted while the girl was getting up, yes - shifted and whickered, and laid his ears back for a moment - but he didn't move away, which is all that matters. Seeing how utterly unhorsemanlike this girl is, Éowyn had had horrible images of the horse spooking and bolting, and probably catching Bacopa a blow along the way.

But that didn't happen. And now she relaxes, picking up the reins with one hand and putting her free arm around Bacopa's middle to hold her in place, and gently nudges him forwards with her heels.

"Try to relax," she tells Bacopa, as the horse starts walking. "The tenser you are, the more like you are to end up with a bruised behind."