[ Miles twists his wrist experimentally. A bit sore, but no longer broken; Lucy's magic has taken away the vast majority of his injury. What little is left will heal rapidly enough. He sits up then, no longer splayed against the couch helplessly; his ribs do not twinge. Perfect. All is well.
(Except the dim ache at his sternum that persists despite everything, but that is another matter.) ]
Yes, we absolutely should. I'm feeling much improved. What about you, Father?
no subject
(Except the dim ache at his sternum that persists despite everything, but that is another matter.) ]
Yes, we absolutely should. I'm feeling much improved. What about you, Father?