Heron Lake Plateau Give the girl a gold star

She was doing her best to ignore her leg and the sluggish pace it enforced on them, maintaining her focus on the company and conversation. But when Niamh asked about it directly, Towhee slowed to a halt and peered down at it. It didn't hurt, which was both good and bad. She frowned when she instinctively tried to flip her calloused paw, only for her body to fail to respond. She would probably get used to it soon, though it currently still jarred her every time it happened.

"It's..." She wasn't sure what to say about it. She rolled her shoulders, then let out a long sigh. "I'm not sure how to deal with it. It's scary and weird and I don't know what it means for me." Her eyes lingered on Niamh's face, almost beseechingly. "I'm not sure I'll be able to patrol," Towhee continued, "or fight. I mean, I'd hope I'd adapt, if the sensation never comes back. But," she faltered, only to shake her head and finish lamely, "I don't know."

She began moving again, now distinctly aware of the numbness on her rear left side, the mostly phantom pressure and weight of her dead leg as sensed through the functioning parts of her body. There was, for instance, the impression of drag, which made sense; her foot was dragging. But the Beta couldn't be sure if it was a real sensation or her brain filling in the blanks. She supposed it didn't matter. At least she was able to walk, even though that simple act required more concentration than usual as her three good legs bore more of the weight and her center of gravity shifted accordingly.