Mulan hummed a little sound of apology. There wasn't much else she could do, and slowing the bleeding was the best option until the healers arrived. She knew from experience how it hurt, though. Jane was a warrior too, though, if a different breed of fighter. She knew how it worked, so Mulan didn't apologize, otherwise.
"It's a strange place," Mulan said. "Sometimes, it's so quiet it's almost oppressive. And then something happens that has children running every which way, or magic gone awry. Or people fighting over things I barely understand." Mulan was bright, and she adapted when she had to. But things that were staples in this world still sometimes baffled her.
She didn't dislike it all, though. She might prefer a sword to guns, and be profoundly uncomfortable with cars over horses - but Mulan had learned to appreciate TV. And if she could bring one thing home again with her, and have it work, it would be the clothes washing machine. Mulan never had liked washing clothes.
Mulan had never been a leader in that sense. She wasn't a general. But she saw the pride in Jane and smiled. "If I ever have to face such things again, I know who to ask for help, then." She looked up as she heard the crunch of tires and then the sound of a car door, calling out for their benefit. "Here. She will need a board to be moved." Unless one of those who could heal with a touch had come. "You'll be fine, now," Mulan said. She didn't ease the pressure until the doctor came into view to take over though.