With relief, he reaches for Crowley's hand, spotting the pain but not able to do anything about it at the moment.

"That's--" He grunts and wriggles. "Surprisingly well-thought out. We could" grunt. "Do that and" gasp. "Bring someone more competent from town... I should never have eaten that second helping of Blanquette de veau."

He sucks in a breath and manages to wiggle free, though not before wrenching one wing in the process and nearly tumbling to the filthy floor.

"I am going to bathe for ages when this is over." It hardly seemed fair that he was in this mess to begin with. Wincing, he reached back to massage the wing joint while looking up at Crowley.

"How are you?"