Yes.

In she pops. If it's obvious, she'll go where it's obvious; if it isn't presumably he can deploy her. She pries steaming armor off her arms as she looks for injured.

He sends her a mental map of where she's needed. This shelter, these people who stayed in their house, these people crushed under the collapse of the wall, this corridor probably doesn't have survivors but should be checked...

She pops around to each place, heals everyone she sees.

There are a lot of places. There are a lot of people. After an hour or so - everyone else was stable enough to move and is in the center of the city, you can come in -

She comes in.

He glances up, registers her, goes back to giving orders to the several people he's speaking to and from the looks of it also the numerous people he's speaking with mentally. Fëanor is present as well and doing the same thing.

She doesn't interrupt them. She goes around healing. Teleporting is faster than taking even a single step: she teleports.

And at last the bustle slows to a manageable pace. The Elves have started singing their funeral songs. I have a list of the dead for you, if you'd like, Maitimo says.

Yes please.

Around four hundred. Sixty two are Men.

She takes this back to their quarter to see that the news is distributed.

Their quarter has a fair bit of damage, and they're all terrified and glad to see her.

She is sure the damage will be patched soon. If anybody's home is wobbly or the structure's damaged enough for its illusion to break, they should squeeze in with friends for now. Did she miss anybody injured who was too walking-wounded to get attention before? Everybody know where their spouses and kids are? It's over; he seems to be gone, actually gone this time.

Families and children are found. There are minor injuries and lots of people whose injuries are probably psychosomatic.

Well, she can tap them all, figuring out who's actually hurt and who has real whiplash takes longer than poking every presented nose.

After a while someone nervously asks how long the Elves will be singing.

They'll probably do it for a long while; it's a funeral custom. Is it bothering them? She could soundproof the singing areas.

It's sad. But maybe that's okay. Since people are dead and that's sad.

Yes. People are dead and that is sad. The Men probably do not want to sing for days about it but it would maybe be appropriate for them to think about how they would like to remember the lost.

They don't really have many ideas. They could name children after them.

That sounds like an entirely reasonable thing to do. They could write down what they remember about the person's life so it's not forgotten, maybe, and then the children can know one day who they're named after.

That sounds good, but they don't exactly scurry off to do it. They still stand there near her, anxious and a bit lost.

Lots of people have ideas for that.