He stumbles back when the pod shatters around them, eyes wide and scared. Though he hasn't even had one drink, he feels drunk too as this takes place in front of him. Did she just...? Frank's head is on a swivel, but they're alone on the street, eerily so. And despite her looking like an adult white woman - one he only vaguely recognizes from the news - that voice is all Kamala. He would know it anywhere, as if she were his own. With that realization, his grip tightens on her shoulders, leveling her with a serious gaze if still a little spooked.

"You hurt? What happened?" He wants to be mad at her for scaring him, but that will come later, no doubt.