If Éowyn is insulted, she gives no sign of it. Weeks spent with people like Firo and Jack have dulled her expectations of manners, and in a way, she appreciates it. She'd rather have truth than manners, in any case. She does feel a little bad for how he stammers and blushes, though, and pats his arm in an attempt to silently tell him she doesn't mind.

"And me," she says, with a thin little smile. It's true, though the relief of sparring comes as much from his newness, and the distraction that offers, than from the fighting itself. "Éowyn they call me. Lady of Emyn Arnen, ere I came hence, and a daughter of the house of Éorl - yet such words and titles hold little meaning here, and Éowyn alone I am."