Henry did what he could, the equivalent of a battle dress, but he had lost strong men to lesser injuries, and he felt grim about the brave lady's prospects. Well, perhaps not a lady. None of Daniel's people in the future were possessed of title or birth. The woman spoke with authority, however. She had a regal bearing in a way that the other woman, Sam, had not. Sam was therefore "mistress," at the level of a tradeswoman, and he tried not to address the bleeding lady as such.
"'Twould be better to take you to a safer place, lady," he said, forgetting his determination not to use titles almost immediately in the moment. The smoke from the fallen structure seemed as real as the debris, and Henry was uncomfortable here. He looked at her with a slight frown as she found incongruous humor in the situation, and then came closer to support her shoulders.
Henry had no idea what orthopedic was. Surgeons he understood to hack bodies in an attempt to help. In Henry's opinion, a man's guts went on the inside, and everything else was details. "Better your leg than your life," he said, grimly. "If you are so sure of the future, perhaps my past might be preferable." He looked around. "Very long past. ...But then, I do not know if I hold sway here."
Henry's magic was founded in sound. He didn't try that yet. "A dream, perhaps. Can you... wake up?"