Ellen Park, the Lone Wanderer

Josepha nods and begins the searching. Fawkes grunts, taking a moment to pick out some brown cloth from a pouch of possessions and wrap his arm with it. The blood starts to seep through almost immediately, but the edges of the wound are held together, which is what matters to him. He can't do much in the way of a search if he's fussing over holding it closed himself, after all. A moment later he gets up to join her in the work.

"Hey, Fawkes, do you recognize this?"

"I believe I do," the meta-human rumbles. "Voodoo, I believe you'll want to see this. One of these people is wearing a Pip-Boy."