[ Ferdinand barely has a moment to question why this young man is so strong (or what a movie is, for that matter) before he's busy looking concernedly over that huge gash. He's no stranger to seeing wounds, not after five years of war, but still - it worries him, perhaps moreso because of the man's almost casual reaction. ]

Please, there is nothing to thank me for. Especially when you are wounded so! You can save your thanks until I have helped you to safety.

[ And even then, Ferdinand does not find this act anything to really be thanked for - it's just something he should do naturally, because it's the right thing. His only regret is that he could not have gotten to this man faster. He doesn't let go of the other's hand, stepping in closer instead. ]

Here, lean on my shoulder. You should not put pressure on your leg with it in that condition.