[So there are bandages, and Yuan detours to detach two of the smaller leaves from a plant he keeps for just such a purpose. When he returns, he offers these to Kratos first. He likely should recognize these by now.]

It's better that you don't lose track of the pain entirely, or you'll over-reach yourself.

[This with the flat countenance of a man who has seen Kratos fall over enough to be utterly done with it. Still, the leaves will dull what pain there is enough that Yuan can wrap the ribs without causing Kratos utter agony, and hopefully Kratos can then get both some rest and some breath.]

[And at this point, Yuan's much more concerned for the dark bruises than for questions of modesty, and though he's faintly hesitant he sits on the edge of the bed next to Kratos, facing him and reaching out to probe gingerly at the line of a different rib. He's ready to pull back at a moment's notice.]

No shards?

[Floating splinters of bone sound like the worst possible way to end this day.]