Oh good, she's lucid. That makes life so much easier. Tim nods and agrees with her, "It's impressive, as far as metahuman powers go. I don't think I've ever seen someone heal like that."

He wants to ask questions about it, because he can only think of a handful who have anything along those lines. Tim wants to know if it's some form of magic, if the song is the incantation, how much she can heal, does it weaken her, does it have consequences, and on and on, and it's not entirely for reasons regarding this death arena. It's genuine curiosity - and, if it a spell, there's a few people back home he'd like to give it to. If he sees home again, someday. No, when.

And there are more pressing matters, anyway. No other fires is a plus. Monsters are not, but he's sure that she's referring to the people in the arena that are killing each other.

Then he remembers R.

Okay, monsters are still a possibility, tries to look around, but it's no use. The stupid light took away what little night vision he'd regained. His vision is bright orange/darkness. He can barely make her out, and she's only two feet in front of him. "What kind of monsters? Where?"

Tim hasn't heard anything but her. In all honesty, he wasn't listening for anything else underneath the explosions. He certainly is now, though.