[Kratos knows. He does make an effort to take breaks, to slow himself down; it's just ... difficult. More difficult than he could have imagined, even knowing that men in his position have the problem. It gets easier once he's got some soup in him; it's still a test, but he manages to put down the spoon and take a breath, and let his stomach settle before eating more.

[Yuan seems very far away, even sitting just across the table. Kratos lets him have that distance. Instead he turns his chair to the side and start testing his capabilities, now he's had something to eat, now he isn't in the dark and cramped cell.

[He starts with his arms, his back, stretching each limb carefully, testing his muscles after so long without any opportunity for exercise. He's done this as regularly as he could, while imprisoned, but there it's still been far too long between times. It's almost a shock when he realises he's out of breath before he's even reached his legs, and his hands are trembling. He goes back to the food, and manages to eat a little more, before resuming his stretches.

[His good leg is about as expected. Hale but tired, lacking food. His bad leg ... Kratos has to manoeuvre it out from the chair just to be able to straight it properly, and then he spends a moment staring down at it, his expression impossible to determine.

[At this point, it's nearly a dead weight. He can lift it, he can turn his foot to some degree, but he can't bend his knee without manually bending it with his hands, or do ... anything else, really. No one's told him how he should be treating it, what he should be doing to maintain the bare amount of mobility he has left.]

... I'm going to need to speak to a healer.