It takes time for her attention to turn to Gustave. In another time, she could have kept more composure. Right now, though? Lune's expression twists. She might as well be looking at a ghost. Seeing the dead is a new sort of terrible. Sure, the continent is littered with the remains of her predecessors. But she could be numb to that.

This? This is surrounding her with the dead in a way she doesn't know how to deal with. Here she is, the woman who decided people who left on a suicide mission were just fine out there. And she's trying to hug a vision of the last survivors of their expedition to herself while the man they'd certainly lost...

"Gustave?" Too many thoughts and emotions at once. Should she be relieved? Angry? Suspicious of a trick? In a way, it's easier to believe in friends bleeding out than it is to accept that he is alive. So she gets a little mean. "...No. I don't have time for distractions. If you were really here, you'd try to help. Gustave would help."

Even if Lune snapped at him sometimes.