The prone figure gasped, and rolled over to push himself to his feet. He turned to face the source of the voice. How he wished to answer, to call out in jubilation in finding possible fellows. He merely smiled, however, and waved at the pair approaching. He looks around for a way to answer the warrior's question, when he spots the scar on his chest. 'Hammond'. It would work. He slowly approached, pointing at the carving in his flesh.

Hammond partially wished he had his weapons drawn, but another part didn't want to seem threatening. He stepped forward, his arms splayed to the side in what he hoped was a welcoming gesture.