The moment they came to a stop it seemed as if some degree of training, experience, or perhaps both kicked in. Damien quickly went over his own person and then that of Fiorella's to determine if either of them were bleeding from shrapnel or had otherwise simply not felt an injury they sustained from that ordnance. When it was clear that she was in entirely one piece, a wave of relief passed over his face for a fleeting second before his almost routine confidence took over again.
"Well, I don't think there's any spare tires out here." A barely audible voice crack was the only chip in the "armor" of his exterior.
There was really only one option left now. "We'll have to hoof it the rest of the way, or at least until we can hail somebody to pick us up." A deep breath preceded him rapidly surveying his surroundings for bearings after the sudden stop. And once certain, he brushed his hand over the shoulder of his confidante while beginning a steady walk - obviously taking for granted she would follow along beside him. Though given her choice to don heels rather than something suited for terrain of this sort, he was on hand to support her if needed.
