[Yuan carries Kratos in his arms when they disembark, not slung inelegantly over his shoulder.]

Give us space.

[This is waspish, which Yuan recognizes there is no call for. He bites his tongue, draws a deep breath, and shakes his head in the negative.]

I'm sorry. Help me get him settled.

[Botta's made a bed up beforehand, with his customary foresight. No refreshers here, hardly the level of technology the old base would have had for support; but it's safe, which is what matters most. Yuan nods in that direction.]

Apart from that, he needs healing artes and rest. We'll be able to tell more when he wakes up.

[The others are getting down, too, stowing rheairds and checking each other over. Nurse sounds quietly from Raine's direction, and the sprites bear the arte to Yuan and Kratos, encouraging angelic regeneration to pick up its speed.]