"Rnghnhhh," the Mamba answers, just as the guy goes, "I guess yes and no."

"Definitely no," rebukes the stranger as the Mamba, in fact, does not get up.

"So, your friend usually does this?" he asks as he eyes the Mamba's worrying posture warily. He puts a little question mark behind the word "friend," somehow.

"Hmm, okay," he concedes. His tone is neutral, heading towards friendly. He's wearing a red vest and has medium-length black hair, tied back behind his head in a loose tie. He carries himself with a confident poise and has a default raise to the left side of his mouth. His eyes are dark enough to be called black, but the sight of them is mostly distracted by the occasional fluff of bangs across his forehead. He seems to be in his early twenties. His arms are crossed loosely in front of his chest. Otherwise, he's in a relaxed poise. He has very shallow pockets on his black jeans and is wearing almost worn-out sneakers. 
Can't really tell what occupation he has from his appearance.

Hopefully she didn't look at him from head to toe. That's rude.
The Mamba is as limp as a wet noodle.

Oh boy.
Thankfully, the clothes don't rip.
"I would advise against that," the stranger...advises. "He might break his head if those rip."

"We're?" he asks, raising his other eyebrow. He's young enough for the crease on his forehead to not really show. "You sure you can speak for him?"
The Mamba has become surprisingly heavy. The fabric is also surprisingly durable.

"Maybe let him rest a bit," the stranger suggests as the Mamba's face probably drags in the dirt half an inch or something.

(Sorry, did you mean "her" in the last part there, or is she shaking the Mamba's head?)

It looks like he's out cold...but then again, he could easily be playing dead. Yes, even during a time like this.

"We can call the ambulance for him," the guy offers. "It's probably really close to here, seeing as what seemed to have happened about ten or fifteen minutes ago."

(bRuh)

"Something shot through that building there and lit the top on fire," he says, pointing to A Certain Building. "Shot a huge hunk of it off, too. I reckon they're still trying to figure out what happened. Looks really weird to me."

"From the looks of it, I doubt it," he says, giving a good squint towards the poor infrastructure. "Nothing wrong with random guesses, of course," he adds.
He glances at the Mamba, who also looks like something or someone to be concerned about, but this time, he doesn't say anything. Hey, it isn't like he murdered someone.

Well, he ain't gonna help with that goal. 
The guy looks at the Mamba, the Cheetah, the Mamba again, and then sighs. "Y'all need a call or something?" he offers.

(bruh)

"I'm not staying here to meddle in your business," he explains. "I'm waiting to see what will happen over there."