There's so much Robin doesn't know about tending to one's injuries. Superficial injuries are relatively easy; knowing one can't die from a scrape relieves some of the pressure in wrapping up wounds. But her injuries are rather extensive and it's a bit daunting for a moment. He hardly knows this woman, but he truly does care about her. The idea that she could die under his watch, after everything she's done for him, is deeply upsetting. But she's awake enough for the moment that he can ask questions of her as he goes. He starts with the injuries he can see first, using the few supplies from her medkit to clean and wrap her injuries the best he can. He has a flask of ale he keeps with him, so he rips up some cloth from his trousers and douses it in ale when he runs out of supplies to wrap her head.

Knowing there's nothing he can do for her ribs, Robin shifts now to sit with her, gently resting her head in his lap. "How do we get a hold of your team? I believe they returned to your ship," he laments. Anything to keep her talking right now seems like a good thing.