The Time Lord frowns at the screwdriver as it tells him about the state of her injuries. The scars in particular draw a near growl from him and he looks back up at the fort. Smoke billows up from it, cinders raining down around it in a hellish cloud. He doesn't pick up any internal damage down below, though, which is a relief. That would be cause for him to go back up there and break that vow against killing, probably. No reason to bring it up unless she does though.

"Two broken ribs and some cuts that'll need attention. You'll be alright dear. I can have you back to bouncing around in a few days time. Doesn't look like you were drugged either, which is good. All we've got to worry about now is triage and making sure you don't get an infection."

He rises and pulls a blanket and pillow out from a chest, setting her head down and covering her up so she can watch the fire.

"They'll remember this day. And if they have any common sense, they'll never, ever, so much as think your name again. This will not ever happen to you again. I swear it."