He comes to a halt. But she still has some momentum. Kitty gives a very reasonable cry of surprise as she tumbles off him (a noise which uncharitable people might describe as a "squeak," but which is really just a perfectly normal and normally-pitched noise of protest, thanks) and into the hedgerow. Now she regrets not bringing that jacket indeed, as the scratchy twigs and leaves jab at her poor arms and legs.

"Ow," she says, firmly and calmly registering her displeasure. She thrashes about a moment, then manages to dig herself out of the hedge with a minimum of bloodshed - and then she gives Bartimaeus a look. Oh, he managed to get out of the hedge just fine, didn't he.

"Warn me next time, won't you. Honestly - " She purses her lips, brushing more foliage off herself. "It's like you've never given someone a ride before." Then, straightening her tunic and squaring her shoulders, she squints around them. This...seems a long way from anything of note. "Are we...almost there, then? Is this - erm - France, or...?"