It's a gruesome sight, bodies both still and twitching, wet and in various states of charred or dismemberment. Donatello feels that nausea starting to creep up on him again, and he turns away once he's satisfied that there aren't any more infected sneaking in behind the smokescreen. Looking to Li and meeting that gaze of her however does little to unwind the knot in his stomach.

"Hey..."

The lack of a response from her is worrying. It's like a switch had been flipped and she'd gone into some kind of battle mode. Is this that alien bit of her? That negligible one sixty-fourth? He swallows, not liking the implications. His eyes skip across her as he tries to gauge injuries, wincing at the discoloration of her shoulder as he barely halts his hand from resting there, instead switching hands to set one upon he right shoulder instead, giving her a light shake. "Li? Are you all right?" Please, please be in there somewhere, he can't deal with this!

"...Xiaohu?"