The order snaps him out of it, makes him look at her with wide eyes. Steph is - dammit, Steph's right. Tim almost hates her for it. But... this is his fault, not hers.

Shut it down. Survival is the priority. Listen to Stephanie, because her head is still in the game. Tim fumbles at the cord tied around his waist, but his bloodied hands can't manage the knot. He swears under his breath. Of all the times to tie something well, it's when he needs a tourniquet.

It will have to wait. It probably wouldn't do much good, anyway. The pain isn't localized in his arm, only dominated by it, and he can see more bloodstains. Tim lets himself be lead. They can try to staunch the blood flow when there aren't others around. Right now, he feels like a lame gazelle on the Serengeti. "Where to?"