At one time he might've snorted, because what kind of name is that but weird names are pretty much a given here, he's learned. So, what, some kind of good Samaritan? Is that was this is? As if. Tim's luck isn't that good.

"No," he says too quickly, and his head goes back to shaking back and forth firmly. "How'd you know - "

Well, he can apparently heal with a touch, so maybe seeing stuff like that isn't so weird. Like with Bee.

He shuffles into a wary crouch, eyes darting to either side in automatic reflex. There's no telling what this guy's capable of if he can just ahead and fix people up with a hand to the head, but if he has to make a break for it maybe he could get around him. There's a slight twinge in both his legs as he tests their weight - did he land somewhere heavily? Fuck, probably. That little masked thing is like a freaking cat, always landing on its - by which he means his - feet.