He'd been so hyper-focused on having found Era again that he hadn't really looked at her. Soon as she asks him to have a glance at her back, he furrows his brows. Eyes scan her carefully and then he starts to piece it together. The blood on her person, the sheen of sweat on her skin, the lack of color in her face. She's injured.

"I understand," he says, just as hushed a tone. The man steps behind her and crouches down to inspect her person; he runs his hand carefully along the ripped fabric of her dress he can see. His lips purse when he feels the piece of metal embedded in her skin.

"This might hurt a little," he warns, but doesn't give any other indication that he's about to yank it out. It'll be smarts, definitely, but hopefully she can start to heal quickly. And she won't owe him anything, but he's not about to turn down coffee anytime soon. Especially not with someone he severely needs to catch up with.