"Probably not," he replies nonchalantly. "One, two, three."

He's done dumber things in his life, that's for sure, and coating the hull once it's up can be done with one hand, so he figures there's no real problem with this one little bad decision. His ribs are bruised from the same impact that put his arm in the sling, and lifting definitely hurts as he hoists his end, though he's pleasantly surprised to find the stranger can carry more than he'd expected, for it's less of a challenge than he'd anticipated.

"Thanks," he says once the hull has been set down. "I don't think we've met, have we? I'm Rosinante." And he holds out his good hand to shake.