[Broken bones. He doesn't think so, or he doesn't feel like anything is broken. Stretching his legs, flexing his hands and feet, reaching up and to the sides to check for anything on his arms and ribcage, he winces at the ache here and there, but he knows the hurt of a broken bone well.
Running his hand up his face, as if wiping his own frustration off, he tries to get up, wobbly still. He's bruised and exhausted, the impact doing work on his muscles.] I think I'm fine; there is not too much damage. A gyros would do the trick.
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Running his hand up his face, as if wiping his own frustration off, he tries to get up, wobbly still. He's bruised and exhausted, the impact doing work on his muscles.] I think I'm fine; there is not too much damage. A gyros would do the trick.