You’re finally calming down enough to really take stock of what’s happened.
You lost your right arm. You’re stronger in the left, at least, so if you really had to you could probably still throw a skyslicer. But swimming seems out of the question.
And you feel… well, not quite angry. You weren’t warned about these creatures specifically, but it’s not as if you hadn’t been told the rain was dangerous. And if you’d just let that chicken go from the start and left it to its fate, you might have been fine.
But it still hardly seems fair. And yet, what can be done about it? It’s not like they can give you your arm back now.
And you know John Medic cares, if nothing else. If anyone else were here, you might be in a far less forgiving mood.
“Just… stay here, for now,” you say. He nods in understanding.
You sit there for a few minutes before you’re finally ready to unleash the question that’s been on your mind.
“What are the… what did he call them… the rainspawn?”
John lets out a deep sigh.
“We don’t know,” he says. “I’m… I’m sorry. They’re too dangerous to be near, as I think you can attest. No one’s ever gotten a good look at one, not without getting eaten.”
“It’s a small miracle you only lost an arm. The rainspawn are relentless, and there’s no safe place from them out there.”
“No safe place.” You think about your father. “So if Father wasn’t here or with the Marshguards…”
“Probably eaten.” John nods sadly. “But we don’t know for sure he’s not somewhere in the Marsh Fortress. They’re a secretive bunch, even among themselves.”
“I see.” You just lie down blankly again, before asking one last question.
“What happens to me now?”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a lot of training I won’t really be able to do with one arm.”
“We’re not going to abandon you. If you want to stay here, you can stay. We’ll figure something out about your training.” He sighs. “Of course, I wouldn’t fault you for leaving. I can’t deny it, you lost your arm primarily due to our failure. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t owe us anything.”
He pats you on the intact shoulder.
“And you don’t need to make a decision on that right away, either. Right now, what matters is your health.”
Suddenly, someone rushes in.
“Medic. Got a prisoner, badly hurt.”
“Understood.” He turns to you. “Sadly, duty calls, and I’m afraid I can’t stay with you the whole time. But I can send for someone else, if you’d still like some company. Is there anyone on the base you’d like to see?”
Lisa, probably, but holding cards is going to be hard with one hand.