Stavanger Bay rather have been killed by that beast than be saved by a half-breed

It was utterly baffling that the wolves of this foreign place be so concerned with his well-being. From the healers, to the strangers outside of the bounds of Skellige's claim, to Skellige's own wolves; Tetsubo did not understand this in the slightest. He knew he was injured so they were not passing new information to him. He knew, too, that it was some sort of ritual performed by some beings just to make themselves feel better (as he had learned from Chase). Yet it would forever confuse him. The only reason to be concerned for his wellfare was to ascertain his strength, his usefulness, and so he chose this as the explanation above all. When a new voice spread through the brine-filled air towards him, voicing concern and all manner of strangeness, Tetsubo told himself, she is concerned for my usefulness, and left it at that. Thinking further upon this topic would only confuse him.

I am injured, he explained dully, his voice a deep drone, but I can still function. So there would be no need to question his body's capabilities further, nor any reason to confront him about his inability to take deep breaths. At the very least Tetsubo's eyes had adjusted back to their normal appearance, so he no longer had the look of an oxygen-starved maniac. He sucked in a slow breath through his nose, felt it rattle in his lungs, and then let it whisper out from between his teeth, which he grit for the pain. Then, sizing up his current company, he remarked, You smell strongly.. Of the sea. And Skellige. Such an observation was his attempt at small talk, one of his least favorite behaviors, but he knew he needed to learn more about the beasts that followed his lord.