"Thanks for that..." He's light-headed, but his wit is intact.

With the arms under his coat, what Daredevil is patting is at his back, but there's a little rattle and click from ankle level, as one peers up at him from under the ragged hem. It's as much an answer as he's likely to get directly.

"...Moe." Dr. Octavius mutters, staggers slightly, and refocuses. They can understand... you fine."