She knew that look. She had seen it in the hundreds of faces of men who knew that they would not return to their home and kin, in the faces of soldiers who knew that their next journey would be their last. It grieved her to see this look on them, and it grieved her now to see it on the face of one who had become so dear to her. At least with the men of the Mark Éowyn knew that she could do something for them, that she could comfort them ere they rode to meet their doom. What could she offer Lord Faramir here and now?

"Where are you to ride?" she asked instead.