John doesn't have the first idea what an invoice is, but he'd rather not look like a fool in front of his rescuer. The sentiment is clear enough. He rumbles a mutter of approval low in his chest and continues walking.

The further they get, the more clear it becomes: he is not going into shock. The leg isn't bleeding as much as it ought to, and for all that John still hisses when a particularly uneven patch of ground jolts his step, he doesn't freeze up in the way a badly-wounded noncombatant usually might. There is something more than baseline human in his endurance.

"I wasn't trying to find the danger," he offers, after a minute, in the way of someone trying to sound exasperated and falling short. "If everyone in this group walks straight into trapped ruins, we will not make it far."