[Kratos sinks into the seat and focusses on breathing, his hand settling unthinkingly across his bad ribs. Even that relatively short distance has him out of breath -- although that could just be because of the bruises. He doesn't dare sink back into the seat; that would only hurt worse. Instead he leans on his cane, even seated.

[He exhales long at Yuan's question, letting his eyes fall shut. His shoulders slump a touch.]

Twisted knee. Bruises. ... Possibly a cracked rib.

[Nothing which should have been too terrible; frustrating and in need of attention, but not outright debilitating. Except, with this damned leg of his, it is.]