He considers it for a moment. Most of his body just feels kind of weak and achy like he's coming down with the flu. It's hard to pinpoint the specific places, except for the bruised area where the bullet wound was, of course.

"Just my shoulder," he decides, opening his eyes again and offering Greg a smile, even though it takes some effort. "But it's way way better than before!" He reaches out to put his hand over his dad's again, claws or no. "I'm... I'm okay, dad."

But he only says it because he knows Greg must be worrying. He doesnt know what he is right now.