Well, of course he wasn't really in any danger -- though he probably scared a few years off the driver's life. But knowing you won't be permanently hurt (and setting aside the fact that it probably would have hurt like blazes before he healed himself) isn't always enough to override your survival instincts. She could throw herself off a very tall cliff and be fine, provided nothing was wrong with her magic. That doesn't mean she'd do it without pause. He was extraordinarily brave, even if his nanites are all that kept him from being foolhardy, or downright mad.

At any rate, she's stunned and shaken, but not angry. How could she be, when he was trying to help one of the People? "You're not in trouble, silly," she says, managing a faint smile as she crouches on the other side of the dog, the better to examine his leg. "I'd kiss you if seeing to this fellow wasn't more important."

And he does need seeing to, the poor lad. She frowns at his leg, not wanting to muck with it in the middle of the sidewalk, but also knowing they won't be able to get him far without hurting him worse. "Here, can we get him just over there?" She nods at the front door of a closed shop, the entry set back far enough to make a little alcove. "I don't think carrying him will help, but if we flank him so no one else jostles him..." To the dog, she adds, "It's going to hurt until we get you there, but then I'll set you to rights."

The dog looks back at her with complete trust, tail fanning the air. Then, he starts to gamely limp towards the shopfront. Daine straightens most of the way and follows, an arm at the ready in case the dog stumbles.