He's still lost somewhere between being earnestly sympathetic and feeling obligated to be contrary. Like he needs to challenge what is being offered here, and to be assertive about his place in things. Really, it shouldn't take much conviction to be concerned by his own broken limbs, but that is the sort of mental place he's been inhabiting recently.

"I don't know what materials you have available," he says, slowly. "But something to stabilize my damaged limbs would be appreciated." Being able to stand, even if it's on a splint, would be nice.