[ Proffered clothing is taken, shrugged onto his shoulders, and wrapped immediately around a body far too exposed to whatever toxins might already be infesting his lungs. His arm is raised then, unashamed to use cloth to filter what clogs his airways and claim back a tiny amount of respite in return. Both strangers offer their perspectives and knowledge, and a rare anger begins to spark inside of him. What he doesn't understand about his current situation could fill tomes but what he does understand, inherently, is the danger of their surroundings and their inability to delay answers to simple, direct questions with unnecessary prevarication. ]

Responsibility matters if we've got any ability or time to prosecute people who aren't stepping up to handle their end of the bargain. Right now we've got a problem and we need to solve it.

[ Though Voryn offers a possible solution, at the very least, and Ocelot is just as tempted to urge him to try. ]

And you–! I asked you what it needed to do, not what grudge you have. This guy's right; we're all three here together and we need to do something. If the only information you feel like offering is reminding us this is your fault, then you're operating for yourself and your emotions and should stand down. We can debate philosophy later.

[ That hand falls on Voryn's shoulder again, this time squeezing once, tight. ] If you think you can communicate with this thing, make it a two-way street, I say do it. We're here as your back-up... or at least I am.