Yes, this woman has sustained arterial damage, [janus says, tightening her grip. the woman moans slightly, her eyelids fluttering; it doesn't seem like she's long for consciousness, which is both helpful and alarming considering the average human already seems terribly helpless in the face of these terrors. janus isn't feeling too well themself, but force of habit has them focusing on the moment, and its pragmatics, with laser light focus.

some things about this moment are familiar. even the stagger and pause of thom's voice resonates inside of janus somehow. back home, hunters had worked with civilians often or with their juniors. besides, even the best-trained among them will lose it sometimes. one flashbang, a poisoned needle, and all of one's courage and cleverness will desert them. noticing abruptly that thom is quite young himself, janus forces their voice calm, gesturing.] Come here, Thom, [they say.]

Come here, little one. My name is Janus. Can you put pressure on this wound for a moment? I'll scout briefly, and perhaps then we can see to contact your Iron Man.

[bad assumption, that all superheroes know each other.]