Felltree Marsh Don't Be a Stick in The Mud!

”If yer lucky you can keep the leg,” he started. ”If ya start feeling feverish, it’s too late. Dry mouth, exhaustion.. those are telltale signs it’s too late.” 

He, of course, was listing off what he was feeling now, assuming she’d felt the same way. 

”Had an old pack buddy ended up sick from ‘em. Said he felt fine one day, then the next he couldn’t walk. By day three his leg had all but fallen off his body. Can still remember hearin’ him yowl when he woke up to find his leg hangin’ off his body by nothin’ but some rotten skin.” 

If she was going to insult his bladder, he could at least repay her by grossing her out a bit.