Emery listens seriously, committing the names to memory. (He rarely writes things down. While he is literate, Emery doesn't make a habit of carrying pen and paper. His memory is pretty sharp, though.)

"That's what it is to be part of a pack, doctor. One that serves all members, at least. Everyone should contribute to the best of their ability." Emery gives him a comforting pat on the shoulder, remembering that First Aid is used to something like a werewolf's pack with the mind-link. First Aid is probably missing those he shared brain-space with, and physical contact isn't the same, but it's something. "It's not your skill to supply the food. It's your skill to keep people well. So I'll use the best of my ability, and you with yours. Mother willing..."

Emery cracks a little smile. "Or is it Mothers here? Mothers willing, we'll get through this."