"Tha..sos..."
He tried the word on his tongue, and found that it tasted strange and foreign. No matter - he was here now, wounded, sick, and thoroughly confused though he was. Might as well cure at least one of those conditions while he still had the presence of mind to do so. Most of the 'cure' required figuring out just exactly what was wrong with him in the first place. He knew his body better than anyone - had to, with all the times it had been battered, shattered, and put back together. Sometimes in that order, sometimes not.
Not too keen on lifting any part of his heavy limbs off the ground, he nonetheless moved his arm, and allowed his hand to rest on his chest. Fingers traced bones that probably ended slightly before they should have, and marked the differences from times before. Yes, he'd cracked a rib. No, it wasn't penetrating his lung. More obvious was the large 'dent' in his side, where it had slammed against what he assumed was probably a rock, after he lost consciousness. This was a more serious injury, and required some focus to properly understand.
As he settled into the now-familiar trance he needed, it looked as though he'd simply slid back off to sleep. In reality, he was using his mind as an extension of his fingers inside of his body, and carefully tracing and tracking where the ribs sat. Jagged edges from swiftly-broken bones accosted his senses, but he ignored it, and proceeded to judge the depth of the fracture, how many bones were affected {only two, thankfully}, and what sort of energy he was going to have to exert to carefully lift the bones back into place with the force of his mind. Granted, he'd done this dozens of times before back down in Hell... but it was slightly different here. There? His dad would help if he screwed up. Here? He wasn't sure who was friend and who was foe. His 'rescuer' could be plotting to stew him alive in his own blood as far as he knew. And that would be TAME compared to some of the tortures he'd witnessed.
Putting that uncomfortable thought aside, and deciding that it might be prudent to wait until he knew more before making judgments about people he hadn't technically met yet, he started the work of quasi-healing himself. Each bone fragment was carefully lifted back into place, and 'cemented' there with force of will. He would have to generally keep still for a couple of days while the bones healed, but that probably could be arranged by feigning unconsciousness or illness. And by the way his throat was on fire, and his heart was pounding, even now, that last bit might not be entirely fake.
He moved from his side, switching his perceptions to lesser wrongs. The rib was lifted back into place with his mind, and cemented there by the same method as the fracture in the other ones. A quick brush-by of the internal organs showed toxins were already working on them, and would have to be fixed. That, he might need some help with. Manipulation and 'splinting' he might be good at.... but actually healing damaged organs? Not so much.
Continuing to pretend he was out cold, his perceptions ran lower. Legs, hooves, tail... various degrees of bruising, but nothing broken. Miraculous as that seemed, the whole saying about one hand and the other was definitely true. His right hoof was split neatly down the center. That would have to heal before he could walk ANYWHERE, and keratin was not as easy to manipulate as bone. He couldn't heal that with just his mind. Allowing his trance to take him deeper, he cataloged the rest of his body almost by rote. Throat was torn - likely from the toxins in the water he'd swallowed. Eyes, ears, mouth, all senses check. Nothing but bruises for his arms, neck was fine, shoulders and torso had varying degrees of bruising... He was going to be sore for a very, very long time.
When he finally opened his eyes, pulling out of the trance, he remained where he was. Okay, so the others, which he now heard and felt the minds of, didn't exactly notice him. That may have been a blessing. He wasn't going to intrude on whatever they were thinking. And from the sound of one of them, it didn't sound as though he'd WANT to scan surface thoughts from that one...
"Who are you?" he asked, voice much stronger, but not much less croak-y.