A quick assessment of the first speaker -- Sam's -- injuries informs him that Credence had been relatively lenient with the man as far as damage is concerned. But what matters, as the second speaker contributes, is that the both of them are professionals; men who are not so different from Peggy and Stella. A counselor (what a strange, new thing; Graves finds himself surprised that there's a vocation for it -- soldiers usually are actively encouraged to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, after all they were men, and drawing on others for help is so often seen as weakness). He frowns at the mention of PTSD, but makes a note to query that later.
He looks from Sam to Sonny, taking in their suggestions and questions; to say that their reaction is unexpected is an understatement. No-Majs usually have more of a fearful and violent response to something like this, a enduring trait he has long detested and has always made preparations against. The concern on their faces is something that makes him wonder if more exceptions to the norm here exist -- or if this is perhaps the norm.
Sensitivity training, working with abuse victims -- things really are done differently back in these men's world, and the sympathy he senses from them makes him pause.
"My colleagues are searching for him currently." He glances out the window. Serenity after the storm, a cloying, heavy thing in the wake of such damage. "Credence must have regained control of himself by now." Looking back at them, Graves chooses his words carefully. "He trusts the both of them." And that, that must be enough. "I cannot assume his mental state, but both your help as to his recovery will be appreciated. Your names are?"
@ Sam and Sonny
He looks from Sam to Sonny, taking in their suggestions and questions; to say that their reaction is unexpected is an understatement. No-Majs usually have more of a fearful and violent response to something like this, a enduring trait he has long detested and has always made preparations against. The concern on their faces is something that makes him wonder if more exceptions to the norm here exist -- or if this is perhaps the norm.
Sensitivity training, working with abuse victims -- things really are done differently back in these men's world, and the sympathy he senses from them makes him pause.
"My colleagues are searching for him currently." He glances out the window. Serenity after the storm, a cloying, heavy thing in the wake of such damage. "Credence must have regained control of himself by now." Looking back at them, Graves chooses his words carefully. "He trusts the both of them." And that, that must be enough. "I cannot assume his mental state, but both your help as to his recovery will be appreciated. Your names are?"