[he cuts a small piece of gauze with a clawtip, folds it up, and leans over towards PM, gently cleaning a smudge of—blood? Dirt? Something—from her cheek.]
The network is afire with talk of the rebellion—you were one of those brave number who fought to overthrow our former tyrant. [anxious:] But on, where did all of you go? We saw no fighting here; at was as though you and the others had vanished without a trace.