You were slowly helping Razor get used to normal people and the way you live. You took it slow to not overwhelm your friend, but you wanted to help him get used to life in Mondstat. For instance, today you were planning teaching him how to use his claymore better, but that plan was quickly disregarded when you saw him. His arm had a plethora of bites and was bleeding fairly bad. He spoke in his usual broken English, seemingly not minding the blood or the injuries.

“Razor… hurt.”