"How is your arm today?"
Vica looked up from the stump she had commandeered off to the side of the barn some distance away. She had been so wrapped up in her musings that she hadn't noticed Bren approach at all. "It's fine," she said. "They said it actually wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Apparently, it wasn't even a full break, which is really lucky. And strange. I thought I'd minced the bone to bits."
Bren stood beside her now, and he leaned over to inspect the makeshift splint affixed to her arm. It was bound to her chest with a strip of fabric as well, and she adjusted it so that he could survey the fading bruises that mottled her forearm. "It healed quickly," he remarked. "Very much so."
"Sometimes it's like that. I remember I broke a rib back when I was just a little girl
