Miles squawks at that. He'd asked for help, not to be lifted out by his armpits. It's demeaning, dammit, and he's in the middle of a camp of people who are already looking at him like he's nothing. Miles squirms, turns to try and deck this guy - and then he sees who it is.

"Ivan?" Miles gapes up at him, lowering his fist. "What the hell are you doing here?"