[ Ramir stares down at the woman — in particular at the way her head lays on the ground. It doesn't look like an unnatural angle, but it doesn't look like the way someone would decide to sprawl comfortably for a nap. It's too twisted for that. The woman looks ragged, like she hasn't been indoors in a week or so, and Ramir feels another little twinge of anger, blocking out any sympathy she might've felt instead. ]

She's bottom priority. [ She says it decisively, hard with brusque irritation, although she still does crouch to drop one knee on her chest , one hand on both of hers, and the other pinning her forehead. She can at least do that. ]

If she's not dead I'm locking her in the bathroom until we get your neck looked at.

[ And if she is dead... Ramir will figure it out from there. ]