"Uh, I hadn't said anything because I wanted to be sure, but.  My power thinks you're right on top of me, even though you're a few feet away from me, in 3D space.  It's why I closed my eyes to try to find you, before.  I think it should be fine to go further than two hundred feet, but.  This is my first 4D dungeon and I promised to take good care of you."

"If I can do that I should be flying that guy his emergency kit without waiting for you to crawl around the mountains, once I see him."

"Yessir.  Do you have a radio, in case something happen?"  And does he have a tactical dungeon catpack, for that matter?

(Tim also has Knives.  As many Knives as any human could possibly want.  More than that, really.  They're in the process of getting swatted.)

"I did but I think a knife got it." He's got a little bag on him, yup. The fluff resents it and is trying to swallow it. "If I am quick maybe nothing important in the kit will be stabbed before I get it there. Clip it on for me."

"Yessir.  Ten or twenty minutes should be fine at this strength at anything less than a quarter mile, but I'll have to take a break if you get that far."  He really really doesn't like letting a charge get this far away, especially if there's a risk of a backlash spike.  The only reason he's considering this is because A: it really seems safe, B: Cricket thinks it'll be safe and he's literally the world expert on 4D navigation, and C: he's right next to the portal, he can hold on 'til he passes out and just fall through the portal and recover later.

Cricket gets the emergency kit.  "Good luck, I'll see you soon."

"There there," says Cricket condescendingly, and he takes off and is out of view presently.

He spends the time waiting for Cricket to signal him swatting knives and trying to orient himself to Cricket's location.  His power, perhaps for the first time, is really not cooperative about where Cricket is.  "Right there" doesn't actually help when you can't point to "right there".  It's interesting enough to take his mind mostly off the knifesquitos, at least.

The knifesquitos don't have anything better to do than try to stab him (and Cricket). Cricket, as a four dimensional being, is never poked in the internals, only the fluff (and the nose, and the toebeans, etcetera). Eventually Tim can feel him settle onto a mountainside and paw at the clip.

He's not actually all that good at waiting.  Can he see Cricket from here?  He's also going to see if he can reach out to Cricket via radio, maybe it won't work.  But if he does nothing, it definitely won't work.

He can't see Cricket.

"What is it? I am still knifeproof, are you going to keel over?" asks Cricket's voice over the comm.

"Nossir, range is fine.  I wanted to know if you think I should go to you and the vic."  Swat slap crunch.  He's been tossing the knife "corpses" through the portal, on the theory that it could turn out to be a fantastic dungeon material.  Hopefully nobody minds.  If they do, they can reply with a paper airplane or something.

"Yes, I'll come get you once he has his meds. It looks like it will be a worse hike than the last."

"Yessir.  I'll wait for you."  He thumbs off the radio, feeling vaguely dissatisfied that he can't just walk to the dang cat.  But it's not just a casual Sunday stroll, it's a 4D dungeon, and if Cricket tells him to wait near the portal he can do that.

If he'd realized he'd be waiting near the portal, he might have asked for a bunch of boxes, to catch knives.  But he can't leave the dungeon without dropping protection on Cricket.  Oh well.

Smack and catch and crush and swat... 

Cricket reappears, seizes the leash, and pulls. "This way. This one is definitely going to need to be carried."

"Yessir."  He will be lead by the cat, wherever the cat may bring him.  He will marvel at his life, but it's not substantially weirder than the last four months of his life.

... he's going to pick up the pace, too.  "How bad is it?"

"I'm not a doctor but he didn't say anything and he was lying down and his pulse was all over the place."

Shit.  Okay.  How about a light, sustainable jog, terrain depending.  Counterintuitively, light use of his power can help a bit on jogs - it's easier to propel your body.  Marathons would be a problem, though.  He's guessing he has another two or three hours left in him, depending on the victim's status.

The victim, when they get there - Cricket pulls Tim around a lot more on this hike to get around obstacles and find favorable slope angles - is a big guy, conscious and able to look at Tim but clearly not doing so hot. He's got socks on (no shoes) but his fingers and ears are visibly suffering from inadequate circulation.

Well, Tim's a pretty big guy, too, and has to be a baseline amount of augmented to handle this dungeon.  "Hey, sir, how are you feeling?  I'm Aumento, I'm a rescue esper."  He throws his power over the guy like a blanket - what's wrong with this guy?  And can his power help fix it?

The power certainly isn't doing him any harm. Looks like he's got General Fuckuppedness of the Circulatory System, a highly technical diagnosis that only qualified professionals like Tim can dispense. He blinks at Tim but doesn't say anything.

"This is not a hospital, it is a dungeon. Pick him up and hand him over to someone who can call him an ambulance," snaps Cricket.

"Okay, I just need you to stay like you are, okay?  No need to move, just let me do all the hard work.  Just relax and ride the Esper Express."  Tim hates General Fuckuppedness, it's too common and a real problem for everyone involved.  He's going to lift the gentleman, consider his options, and increase his own power use slightly.  "Alright there, sir?"

Cough cough goes the guy. Cricket fishes the leash out from where it's wedged between them and gets airborne again for a good yanking angle.

Yeah, he's going to be fine, with Tim's power on him.  But.  He really ought to get out of here sooner rather than later.  He'll follow the flying kitty at best speed, which is determined largely by how good a rider this guy is.

The guy is not fighting him or anything beyond squirming a little to get into a better position for his labored irregular breaths.

Cricket is definitely acting like he's in a hurry, which means lots of shapeshifting mountains and less getting distracted by knife-murdering. Here's the mountain with the portal on it.