Not broken is something, at least. A sprain can be nasty business in its own right, but healing is a much less complicated matter.

[Getting out of here is their priority now; whatever rummaging around they might have wanted to do after taking down their foe will have to wait— they can, he supposes, always come back, but curious as he'd been about what they might find here, her well-being ranks well above it.

Still on one knee, he shifts his angle and puts an arm around her, just beneath her shoulderblades, his brow furrowed.]

Here, if I may— put your arms around my neck. I can't possibly allow you to try to walk on that.

[She's a stubborn sort, but he hopes she won't argue with him on this point.]