“Been back? What do you mean by that?” Bypassing the frustrated rhetorical question, she figured it might do him some good to give him something to focus on besides the pain.
Get is over with… if only it was that easy. Even she, with her nonexistent knowledge about the prosthetic, knew that getting it off wasn’t going to be easy and definitely not pain free either. With a huge amount of luck, she’ll be able to get it off in only a few attempts with as little pain as possible, but she had not had a good string of luck as of late so she wasn’t counting on that.
Slipping a finger under the bent part of the metal, she pulled as hard as she could to make it give way as it probably was meant to, twisting the arm minimally as she did so to see if it’d give way.
It did… for about two centimeters before the metal stopped short, something grinding painfully against the stone of Draal’s arm at the same time Luka’s fingers got caught between the metal she was leveraging and something else internally.
There was a painful snap and she jerked her hand out with a yelp, taking a step back to give the no doubt pained Troll some space while clutching her digit. The claw was spilt straight to the quick, blood dripping past her gripping hand and into the water of the pond. It would heal in a few minutes, but she did not want to go sticking her fingers into that arm again.
“Well that was a less than productive first try, wasn’t it?” Giving Draal a thin smile with her ears pinned back and the lycan still clutching her claw tightly, she pulled her gaze away to scan the area around them for anything useful. “If only we had something strong and thin to leverage against the metal, aside from my fingers… Some kind of steel twine would work well, too…” But they had neither of those things, so she had to steel herself to reach in there again.
“That’s a long story, and I don’t know you well enough to tell it,” He grumbled, peering at her with suspicion as she asked her innocent question. “I’ve been out of commission for some time. That’s all you need to know.”
It did keep Draal distracted, if it didn’t just irritate him some more. He’d really not meant for the topic to slip in the first place, but his patience was little these days. One would think that his time as a spirit would have calmed him, and it had... Up until he’d returned to the mortal plane, with all its disappointment, loathing, despair, loneliness...
Distracted from the present, he was only brought back when something deep in the stone of his arm stump felt like it was being torn apart from the inside out, and the pain shot up into his shoulder and neck like wildfire. In his blindness he thrashed his good arm, sending waves through the water and leaving a sizable new dip in the semisolid silt.
A good thing for Luka that she was on the other side of him as he thrashed.
Draal did his best to take deep breaths, to stop himself from making too much of a fool of himself. He was calmed enough to hear the werewolf, at least, and he gulped down air as his frustration mounted again, and he began to string curses together in trollish.
“By the might of all the Trollhunters in the Void, end this ceaseless suffering!” He slammed his fist into the silt, creating a second crater. “If I had my axe I’d chop this blasted thing off and learn to fight one-handed!”
He looked over at her with wild eyes, ready to hurl insults, but he could smell the strange blood, and saw the way she clutched her pawlike hands. She was only helping, and she’d paid the price for the wrong approach as well as he had. He took in deep breaths, tried to center himself...
“Don’t break your fingers for my sake,” he grumbled. “The only thing I’ve got on me that’s metal is my buckle.” He twisted his head to point a horn towards his discarded kilt.
pixelskylines
titsay
discoholicmusic
jacobvanloon
dededos
areudirty
janainaart
theartofmadeline
