"...Are you any good at setting bones?" he asks dryly, deliberately not looking at the rather nauseating angle his wrist is at. ...Wait. "If this is just a dream, then why won't it fix itself?" he frowns, staring at it as he wills it to go back to normal.

Sighing, Sheik settles himself crosslegged on the ground, leaning back against the wall for support, and carefully feels the break. A clean break, in each bone of his forearm - he'd have to set both.

"When they're back in place," he asks Jamie carefully as he hands him the bandages he's managed to get off and the sticks he's managed to find, "Can you wrap my wrist? It has to be done securely, and I can't do that one-handed." At least, not without a great amount of pain.