He rests his arm on her awkwardly, trying to appear natural, vaguely startled to hear her talking like this.

"Uh, um," he stammers."Rebels. They took him, my apartment was all messed up and they were waiting for me and - I - I'm fine, I just-"

Well, sort of fine. He's kinda scraped up. Actually his arm is bleeding pretty bad, now that he pushes his sleeve up.

"We," he pauses to breathe, uneven and shallow, "we have to help him. We have to find him." He looks up at her, into her bright wolf eyes. "It's my fault."