You both hear rumbling. Merry and pippin halt, looking around.

“Orcs…”

he mutters, pushing his way in front of the hobbits, shielding them.

“Lots of them, by the sound of it…”

he turns to face you, unfastening his horn from his belt. He blows into it, signalling to the rest of the fellowship for assistance- yet nobody comes. Boromir once again glances at the halflings, shaking his head and unsheathing his sword. He faces you again.

“We must protect the small ones… prepare to fight.”