[He asks questions and Kratos answers, as much from his awareness of his state as from what the healer said a few months back. His tone is not precisely terse, but his answers are economical and flat.
[The braces, as it turns out, aren't entirely one piece. Rather they're a series of interlocking rods and straps which Mac Gabhann dismantles and reconstructs according to Kratos's information and the length and shape of his leg, with the exspheres inset at the joints, like pins. It fits to his leg over his clothes, hooking to his belt; behind his thigh and knee, there's taut straps of fine mesh which emulates the cut muscle. It's altogether less bulky than he thought it would be, owing to the light-weighted rods; but it's still far more present, and alien, than the cane.
[When Kratos gets off the table, cautiously to account for the shift in weight, he finds that he still can't walk as he did when hale; but he can bend his knee somewhat more than usual, and twist without falling, and be more assured that his bad leg won't simply be a dead weight, if he needs to react quickly. It still takes a bit more measuring and switching out the rods with others, but finally Mac Gabhann steps back with a satisfied nod.]
That should do it. You won't find a better one anywhere in the city.
[This sounds, to Kratos's ears, rather pointed; and he glances at Yuan, wondering how much Yuan is about to have to pay on his behalf, and whether this level of quality is strictly necessary. (It is; of course it is. He's going into the field, if not the battlefield. But it's still galling.)]
no subject
[He asks questions and Kratos answers, as much from his awareness of his state as from what the healer said a few months back. His tone is not precisely terse, but his answers are economical and flat.
[The braces, as it turns out, aren't entirely one piece. Rather they're a series of interlocking rods and straps which Mac Gabhann dismantles and reconstructs according to Kratos's information and the length and shape of his leg, with the exspheres inset at the joints, like pins. It fits to his leg over his clothes, hooking to his belt; behind his thigh and knee, there's taut straps of fine mesh which emulates the cut muscle. It's altogether less bulky than he thought it would be, owing to the light-weighted rods; but it's still far more present, and alien, than the cane.
[When Kratos gets off the table, cautiously to account for the shift in weight, he finds that he still can't walk as he did when hale; but he can bend his knee somewhat more than usual, and twist without falling, and be more assured that his bad leg won't simply be a dead weight, if he needs to react quickly. It still takes a bit more measuring and switching out the rods with others, but finally Mac Gabhann steps back with a satisfied nod.]
That should do it. You won't find a better one anywhere in the city.
[This sounds, to Kratos's ears, rather pointed; and he glances at Yuan, wondering how much Yuan is about to have to pay on his behalf, and whether this level of quality is strictly necessary. (It is; of course it is. He's going into the field, if not the battlefield. But it's still galling.)]