"It's fine," He said tightly, and that was all he said about it. In fact, it was almost in constant pain - dull and throbbing where it chafed against the prosthetic, sharp when he landed too hard or pushed too far. The leg itself sometimes nearly dead weight under him, never quite moving exactly how he expected it to.

He took the bow back, sliding it over a shoulder for now, string drawn over him. Once they had somewhere to stash the supplies, he could devise a better way for carrying it, but that was the best he could manage at the moment. He fell in beside Wyatt where he could easily reach the arrows - the mad didn't even have to ask.

He nodded to the plan. "Don't pause on my account. Let's press on - there must be more to this place, somewhere better suited for shelter."