The deviant's only answer is a thin, joyless smile, one Connor doesn't bother to direct back to his face for long. His eyes fall to the wound at his shoulder, where the spear had forced through and where it's still partially lodged. Connor doesn't need this weapon anymore, or at least he doesn't need it within the deviant's reach.

He steps around wordlessly, kneeling by the deviant's side. Without fanfare, he pulls on the spear, and when it resists he twists and wrenches until there's a faint snap and it springs free.

More thirium seeps out from the wound, melting the snow scattered over that area. If Connor isn't careful, the android will reach critical levels before he gets back to Cyberlife, offlining completely. It would be useless, then. Worse than useless. Connor packs some snow between his hands before pressing it down over this biggest exit wound, surveying the rest of him. Does he need to stop for repairs?

Working mechanically, Connor takes off the backpack he's carried around as a matter of fact. There is an unused pair of spare socks, and he takes one, stretching it out of shape.

It's not ideal, but it'll make a good bandage. Or failing that, at least a good plug for the wound.