"Shit, Taylor." The frown that hits her is immediate— reaching across the distance to set a hand beside the gouge in his helmet, trying to get a better look at the damage. If he has a problem with it, he can argue with her once she's made sure he isn't gravely injured.

"You should have said something." About his wounds, at least. "I could have brought some supplies with me."

And to that, she casts a short glance behind her, open concern turning towards Locus instead: "You don't have anything on you, do you?"