On Wednesday, I was bitten on my left hand by a customer's pitbull. I was picked by my GM and taken to the nearest urgent care where I was seen and filed a worker's comp/dog bite report.
I was treated and given the proper immunization shots. The next day, I was contacted by the local animal control and gave info about the incident.
Now that all that's happened, do I contact a personal injury lawyer? I understand I can get paid for an on the job injury. What are my next steps?

Last month, The Bad Batch came to its end with a quite explosive finale. And I made no mystery that I had a few issues with how this story wrapped up. After all the build-up we had in the previous episodes, the finale kinda fell flat, especially on a few meaningful plot threads that were basically dropped unceremoniously. Of course, I still love this show despite everything; this post is not meant to be a criticism towards the show creators: it's their show, and they did what they wanted with it. But I figured it wouldn't hurt to try to imagine a different ending just for the fun of it. I have no pretension to claim that my take is objectively better by any means; it's just different, some people may like it, other my prefer the ending we got or a completely different one and there is nothing wrong with it.
Also, I need to clarify that this whole thing came to me almost by itself in a moment when I just had the right inspiration to collect all the random ideas I had in the back of my mind and put them in a somewhat cohesive order. I admit that it might feel a little disjointed at times, and for that I apologize, but I wrote it in less than two hours and I didn't want to change it too much before posting it. I'm not a professional writer, and this post is meant to be just a fun experiment. Now, in order for this ending to work, we would definitely need to make the finale longer: half an hour should be enough and would make the finale as long as the pilot. Also, a few scenes, like Omega's escape with the kids and the unleashing of the Zillo beast could be moved at the end of the penultimate episode, to gain a little more time for the finale (would be nice if Omega were the one to control it through the Force, but that's a whole other can of worms I'm not ready to open).
My alternate ending differs from the original in three key aspects: first, Rex is present to play a small but important part in the mission on Tantiss, and ideally he would bring along a few of his men, including Howzer and Gregor. Rescuing the clones from Tantiss has always been his quest since late season 2; the Batch basically tagged along just to save Crosshair, and later Omega. Why would Rex only send Echo on this very important mission? They could have easily explained his arrival on Tantiss in various ways. Maybe they could have said Echo sent him the coordinates. Or even better, they could have showed that the ship they used to hitch a ride on the science vessel had a tracker on it, so that Rex could follow: just like they originally planned to do on Eriadu.
Second, the CX troopers would have a more meaningful role in the climax, without being just reduced to mindless NPCs that need to be killed: Rex and the others know very well that those clones are all victims; which leads me to the third, most obvious, point: Tech is revealed as CX-2. Now, I don't want to start another debate on the subject: no use to argue about it now that the show is over. I had my reasons to believe that the story could only benefit from Tech being alive, and I had plenty of reasons to believe CX-2 was actually him. This is just my opinion, and you are not forced to agree with it; if you think Tech's disappearance was handled correctly or that it was necessary for "stakes" or whatever reason, then it's fine. It's just that my version works with him being alive, in order to give us a proper pay-off with a complete family reunion. So, now that the premise is over, I can finally start to explain how the ending would be different in my take:
The big changes would start during the scene in the training chamber. Like in the original, while Hunter, Crosshair and Wrecker are being reconditioned, Hemlock does his evil monologue, where he mentions the last time they saw each other, after losing a brother and says that "history my repeat itself". To me, those lines seemed to be specifically written for a Tech reveal, so in this scene Hemlock actually has CX-2 unmask himself: maybe he could say something like "Isn't this a lovely family reunion?", while the others are being reconditioned, and can't even say a word as they look in horror at what their brother has become. As Hemlock leaves the room to answer Tarkin's call, Echo, Rex and the others are the ones dealing with the CX troopers down below while CX-2 (and not the other big guy) is the one watching over the others as Omega comes to rescue them. As soon as Omega recognizes Tech, she calls him by his name, and hearing it for the first time causes something to trigger in the assassin's mind. Then the scene goes differently after Omega frees the others.
They all try to fight against Tech who still has the upper hand for various reasons. We know he's a capable fighter and the smartest of the group. He's also actively trying to harm them, while the others are pulling their punches. Not to mention Omega is too weak for him, Hunter and Crosshair are already depleted and Wrecker is also injured. During the fight, however, the others try to talk to him, and he clearly starts to hesitate, especially when he hears some words that he might recognize. Even after being incapacitated, Crosshair is the one that's more desperate in trying to reason with his brother, by bringing up his personal experience with the chip and telling him that it's never too late to do the right choice. But then Hemlock, noticing Tech's weird behavior, calls him with the order to bring Omega to the landing platform for a quick escape. So he's the one who drags her on the bridge while she still desperately tries to reason with her brother, begging him to remember who he is, possibly referencing that conversation they had in the cave back in season 2.
Now, before the climax, we need to talk about the other 3/4 assassins that Echo, Rex and the others would be dealing with. Of course, they wouldn't just kill them, but they would make an effort not to harm them, trying to stun them instead. Unlike Tech, these assassins won't be freed from their mind control immediately, we could say it's because the chip has made the reconditioning take better hold of them. We'll leave the door open for Rex and the others to figure out a way to cure them after taking them away from Tantiss (no matter what, they're still their brothers). As an added bonus, we could reveal two of them to be named clones that we know of. One could be Cody, since Rampart could have lied about him being AWOL; in this scenario, I would also say that Cody should be the one to cut Crosshair's hand, adding another layer to their interesting dynamic. Another one might be Wolfe, who also might have tried to desert after Teth, or maybe they just took him before he could even start to doubt the Empire (apologies if this doesn't align well with Rebels: correct me if that's the case). This will, of course, add even more tension to the fight with Rex and the others; maybe, as cruel as it might be, he could be the one to kill Howzer, tough it's not mandatory, and personally I don't like pointless deaths.
Now, on the bridge the scene is a little different; my ideas can be a little confusing from now on so bear with me. Omega still gets handcuffed to Hemlock while Tech and Scorch are guarding his escape, maybe with a few more stormtroopers who are easily shot down by Hunter and Crosshair. Wrecker is also there this time: though he doesn't have a blaster, he charges straight towards Hemlock, but Tech shoots him on the shoulder and the leg, neutralizing him. So now we have Crosshair and Hunter on one side, Hemlock and Omega on the other like in the show, but we also have Tech, Scorch and the incapacitated Wrecker in the mix. The ship still needs to arrive and land on this specific platform, so we still have time for a brief verbal confrontation between Tech and the others during this stalemate. Hemlock tries to prove a point by giving Tech the order to finish off his brother, but Crosshair finally manages to breach through him by asking him "When have you ever followed orders?", to which Tech finally breaks free of the reconditioning on his own ("We do not need help. We will figure out a solution, as we always do").
Without thinking twice, Tech shoots Scorch to disarm him but in turn Scorch tackles him off the railing and they both fall; Tech manages to throw a grappling hook on the bridge and Wrecker, crawling on his side, is able to catch the rope before it snaps. Tech is still dangling for his life while Scorch is still clutching his leg, but Wrecker, despite his injuries, is not willing to let him go this time. The tension is high, and the ship for Hemlock has finally arrived, but Omega manages to stay calm and collected and so do Hunter and Crosshair. Just like in the show, she manages to stab Hemlock, allowing Crosshair to shoot the handcuffs with Hunter as a "tripod". Finally free from Hemlock, Omega rushes to help Tech, grabbing his hand after he finally manages to kick away Scorch. After everyone is safe, Wrecker starts to embrace Tech with all the strength he has left, crying as he promises that he'll never let him fall again, while Omega runs to Crosshair and Hunter, and they hug just like in the show: that scene was perfect, so I wouldn't change it one bit. Then of course there is a whole group hug (Echo may join as well), with a softer yet triumphal variation of the main theme in the background.
After the clones are back on the ship, headed to Pabu, Tech apologizes to his brothers for the harm he caused as Hemlock's puppet, describing how terrible it was to act as a soulless assassin while desperately struggling with his mind to break free. Crosshair apologizes to Tech for choosing the Empire over them and for indirectly causing his fall and capture. Tech reassures him not to feel guilty about it, and says that he made his choice when he executed Plan 99, and that, if he could go back, he would still do it, though Hunter jokingly orders him to never do that again, with Omega immediately backing him up. And I don't think I would need to add anything else after this. The rest can go on pretty much as in the original episode; we only need to spare a minute for a proper reunion between Tech and Phee ("Better late than dead") and of course everyone will be sitting under that tree in the end.
And there you have it, this is the best I could come up with after letting my mind wander for a couple of hours. Could have this been plausible? Maybe not. Is it perfect? Definitely not. Is it better than the original ending? I'll let you be the judge to that. But I still wanted to share it with you guys, as a testament to how much I love this show and these characters. Thank you, if you managed to stick this far; whether you liked it or not, hopefully I managed to entertain you a little with my ramblings. Have a good day, and may the Force be with you, always.

I know some probably won’t believe me, but this story is 100% true. The only thing I’ve life about in this story are the names. This really did happen to me and my family
Prologue: This is very long story, and will be split into two parts, so be prepared for a bumpy ride. To premise this trilogy, there are a couple thing you need to know. We are on a vacation to LA. My mom, Allie, is a doctor, and my dad, Joel, works in IT. They’ve got three kids. Me, Henry, my twin brother, Jake, and my younger sister, Ella. All names in this are replaced with fakes. None of us have been to LA before, but my parents have travelled the world, so they know how travelling works. My brother and I are both in the school band. We arrive from LA back home at midnight on the 6th of April, then leave for a school band trip to Portugal on the 8th. I am the lead drummer for all three bands, and one of only four basses in the choir, so I cannot miss the trip. My brother plays bass, but there are others who can play bass in the band. This information is to be used for all three parts of this story.
Part 1: The Drive The story starts at our Airbnb in LA. We have to leave the airport to go home. The plane leaves at 11:00pm and my dad wanted to leave at 7:00pm just to be safe. My mom said that it was fine and that we could leave at 8:00pm, my dad agreed. So the time was set. 8 PM, we would leave. We leave a little late, 8:05-8:10, because Ella, who’s 7 years old, was making a fuss. We leave, and take the 40 minute drive to LAX.
We arrive at the airport, and my dad gets into the six lanes of traffic that are converging into 1 lane going into LAX. We wait in our rental car for 30 minutes, and we have to go to the rental car return. My dad starts driving while following the signs. He takes a right, takes a right, then takes a right, and we’re right back at the six lane hellhole. My dad sees this, goes “hell no”, and turns around ON THE FREEWAY. Nothing bad happens, no horrific injuries. And we go back the way we came, through the rental car return road, making sure to follow every sign TO THE LETTER. It takes us right back.
My dad is panicking, because at this point, the plane leaves in 1:40, and we’re not in the airport. Anybody who’s travelled knows that that’s risky. My dad starts telling us in the car to look on the maps and figure out a way in. The only person who listens is my brother and my mom. My sister is playing Minecraft, and I’m listening to a podcast. After about five minutes, my dad starts yelling and I hear him, “RENTAL CAR RETURN, LOOK IT UP!!!”. This is when I realize that something is wrong. So I started to help.
My sister still playing on her iPad, we look for rental car returns. I keep asking him which one, but there’s so much yelling going on in the car that he can’t hear me. I could not tell you what the was yelling about. Because of the way LAX was built and how it expanded so quickly, the car returns are 2 miles in a different direction on the freeway, which is why the signs were telling us to go back there.
My mom says she found a way, not on Apple maps though, she just looked on a satellite map. Big mistake, because we get there and there’s a giant concrete barrier blocking our way. At this point, we’re all panicking because the plane leaves in an hour. Finally my dad yells out “Search up Hertz car returns!”. We find it, we drive there, and my dad being a “Gold Member” doesn’t have to do any paperwork when signing off the car. He just leaves the car and its keys, tells us to sprint to the shuttlebus to hold it while he signs off on the car.
We get in the shuttle bus, and my sister starts to cry. She left her new water bottle in the Airbnb. There’s no way in hell we’re going now, so we tell her to suck it up. My parents are completely convinced that we’re missing the flight, my brother is trying to be optimistic, while I am stressing out, trying to figure out a way to get there faster, because the shuttle bus went right back in the six lane hell that we had to go for a half an hour.
We sit in the shuttle bus for 20 minutes waiting, and we finally make it to the first terminal. The way LAX is structured is It’s like a horseshoe. Going from one, curving, then to six or seven. We have to be at terminal six. We’re not gonna make it. There’s 40 minutes left, and it took 20 minutes to get to the first terminal. I’m panicking, thinking, and I realize why can’t we just walk? I told my dad and he says that might just work, because it’s a horseshoe, and terminal seven is closer than terminal four by walking. So we tell the shuttle bus driver to stop the bus and let us off.
We SPRINT to the gate, and it takes us 10 minutes. We get to the desk and the lady there says “What flight?” My dad says Toronto. The lady makes a 😬 face. She says “Put a bag on each scale. I’ll do this, you run.” We all thank her furiously, then run. There’s 30 minutes, and we just got in the building, haven’t even got through security yet. He get to security, and this is LAX, what you would assume to be a VERY busy airport, and the security is completely empty, save or two or three people. We see this, and parents, although they were already sprinting, realize that there really is a chance we could make the flight, so they start to really, really sprint as fast as we could keep up. I’m surprised our legs didn’t come off.
10 minutes before the flight leaves, we get out of security. As we’re all sprinting down the hall, home alone style, I turn around and see that my mom and my sister have vanished, I tell my dad, then sprint back. Turns out they’re in a souvenir shop, getting gifts for mom’s coworkers, and Ella’s teachers. I yell at them, “What the hell are you doing?!?!?! RUN!!!” We get to the gate less than 5 minutes before the plane left. We made it.
We get to our seats, and relax. Everything is going well. Then, about an hour and a half into the flight, my dad hears a loud thump, coming from right in front of him. It’s an overnight flight, so everyone around him is asleep. He looks out to the aisle and sees a pair of legs on the floor… End of Part 1

ive been in a non surgical recovery so far its been around 70 days since injury. i never had any issues with range of motion but i ofc had a ton of pain.
past 10 ish days i basically have no pain, no shaep pain in the medial area if i do a wrong move or anything. only pain above kneecap sometimes.
ive been using crutches this whole time, (i absolutely fkn despise them) i was nwb first but past 5 weeks im half weight bearing but still 2 crutches
i try to walk without crutches every now and then and i feel no pain but i absolutely have a doomed walking dynamic i basically CANNOT stop limping even tho it doesnt hurt? and its a severe limp, the second i have to be on my injured foot and get the other foot up i just rush everything and drag it. how to stop this?? i can take normal steps with crutches.is this psychological?? my leg muscles have been feeling better with the half weight bearing crutches. but this limping isnt going anywhere 😭
is it too soon to walk maybe? anyone has any opinions pls let me know

Hey there reddit! So as the title says, I'm 31 and I have dealt with very severe chronic pain for many years. My first memories of having issues with pain are from when I was about 4 and was having back and neck problems and muscle spasms, sometimes even being bad enough that I had to stay home from school.
When I was 10, my back and neck locked up and I ended up having to go to the hospital to get a muscle relaxer shot because I couldn't move my neck or raise my arms. At age 14, I had an injury that caused problems with my sciatic nerve, which later developed into fibromyalgia (apparently certain injuries can trigger fibro to develop). In my early 20's, I was diagnosed with scoliosis (they checked for it in middle school but missed the diagnosis somehow), as well as arthritis in my knees, hands, hips and tailbone. My spine also curves forward, known as kyphosis, in addition to the sideways scoliosis curve.
And to top it all off, I injured my leg when I was 27 which caused nerve damage and what's known as a foot drop. This makes it absolutely exhausting to walk since I have to pick my leg up higher than normal when taking a step to avoid tripping on my own foot.
Those are just a few of my medical issues, there are lots more that I also deal with. So go right ahead and ask me anything!

11/20/2017
Log book of Det. Ryan Snow
Case #2798: The Appalachian Murders
When I woke up, I was in such a haze that I couldn’t make out where I was at first. My vision was a blur and all I could hear was the sounds of rushing water. I tried to move my limbs, but each muscle down to my little finger felt like lead weighing down on me, making it hard to breathe.
It felt like forever before the ringing in my ear was slowly swallowed out by a voice crying out from what sounded like a distance only to grow louder as it seemed to approach me from the void I had woken up in. It wasn’t until I heard my name that I recognized it was Kate’s voice, pleading and filled with tears.
I blinked away the blur, finding myself staring up at a water damaged ceiling, a single yellow light brightening the room. My head was pounding and my body still felt heavy, but I moved my head enough to turn and see where Kate was calling from. It took a moment, but I soon realized that she was lying on her back, strapped by her arms and legs to a metal table, looking to me with wide terrified eyes.
“Detective, please help!” She cried out. “Please don’t be dead! Please help me!”
“Bl-Black…Well…” I groaned out as I tried, painfully, to pick myself up off the stone floor, “Black…Well… Ah… Shit… Shit! Ms. Blackwell-“ I was gaining consciousness minute by minute as I finally took in the situation and got to my feet. However, the moment I had gotten to my feet and began running to Kate only to immediately fall back to the floor once again, my ankle getting caught by something heavy. I turned to see my ankle had been shackled to the floor by a cuff and chains. I searched my person to find my coat, along with my Glock had been taken, blood decorating my pants and sleeves. I placed a palm to my forehead to find blood when I lowered it down to look at the warm liquid slithering down from my scalp.
“Ms. Blackwell,” I returned my attention to her, examining what I could from my place on the floor, “are you alright, are you hurt?”
“I… I… I don’t… Don’t think so…” she managed to whine out.
“Where’s Mr. Raines?”
To this question, Kate looked away from me, sobbing being her only verbal response.
I went back to the shackles on my ankle and began trying to yank the chains off from the floor, but they had been well maintained and were too strong for me to simply yank out of the stone. I then quickly looked around the room to find we were in a different basement from the one in Cabin #3, though it had the same kind of layout, the table the only major difference. I also took note of the blood stains that trailed from the sides of the table and the dried pools below.
“I want my mom!” Kate cried out, her voice echoing in the empty room.
“I’ll get you to her, I will, I promise,” I assured her, trying to find something, anything to get us out of this, “do you remember how we got down here?”
“I… I… I just re-remember… Remember you g-getting knocked out… Knocked out by someone and them… Them putting a rag over me… Then everything went black… Then I woke… Woke up… H-Here…” Kate answered, trying to breathe with each sob she let out. “I… I th-thought… y-you… You were d-d-… Dead!”
“I’m not, I’m very much alive and I’m going to get you out of here and back to your parents,” I vowed as I continued looking for a way out of this situation, “we’re going to get you out of here, get you home, and we’ll make sure no one ever gets hurt here ever-“
The sound of the basement door from the splintered wooden steps cut me off. I listened as feet descended down the steps to the basement below, Kate’s ragged breaths the only other sound. The person who came down was a woman. The same exact woman from the photo I had found in her house. She looked as if she had not aged since that photo was taken, despite how long ago it seemed the photo was taken. She had the same exact long, white hair, same tired looking eyes, and same disgustingly pale skin as in that photo and on her profile picture. It was Mrs. Larson.
“Deeeeeetectiiiiiiive,” she spoke in a hoarse voice mixed with what I assumed was her own and several others, both male and female, adult and child, “youuuuuuu shouuuullld haaaaaaaaave juuuuuuusssssst giiiiiven herrrrrrr toooooo meeeeee… Youuuuuuuu diiiiiiiiid nooooooot haaaaaave toooooooo ssssssseeeee thiiiiiissssss…”
“Fuck you!” I shouted, beginning to charge at the elderly woman only to be yanked back by my shackles. “Let us go, right now!”
“Nnnnooooo,” Mrs. Larson replied harshly as she stepped over to loom over Kate.
“Stay away from her!” I barked, trying desperately to break free of my shackles.
She ignored me as she ran a shaky hand down along Kate’s trembling face. “Ooooooooohhhhh, Kaaaaaate… Sweeeeet, sweeeeeeeet, Kaaaaaaaaaate…” Mrs. Larson cooed as she went on stroking Kate’s wet cheek. “Doooooo noooooooot crrrrrrryyyyyyy, dooooooonnnnnn’t thiiiiiiiiiinnnnk oooooofff iiiiiiiit aaaaaaaassssss dyyyyyyyyiiiiinnnnng, thiiiiiiiiinnnk ooooooooffff iiiiiiit aaaaaassssss ssssssssaaaaaaaaaviiiiiiinnng aaaaaannnnoooootherrrrrrrrr liiiiiiiiife.”
“I-I… I d-don’t… Don’t under-understand… w-what th-that… That m-means…” Kate cried, her hands gripping the sides of the metal table beneath her, “P-Please, d-don’t… Don’t kill me… L-Let… Let us-us go!”
“Nnnnnoooooo,” Mrs. Larson answered in the same harshness she used on me, “IIIIIIIII neeeeeeeed youuuuuuuuuu,” she then shot a death glare my way through tired, silver eyes, “aaaaaaaannnnnnd heeeeeeeeee’ssssssss beeeeeeeeeennnnnn nnnnnnnoooooooothiiiiiiiiinnnnnng buuuuut aaaaaa thooooooorrrrrrnnnn iiiiiiinnnnn myyyyyyyyy ssssssssiiiiiiiide siiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnccccccce youuuuuu eeeeeessssssscaaaaaaped meeeeeeee.” She then looked back to Kate with a softer look. “Aaaaaaaassssss fffffoooooorrrrr whaaaaaaaat youuuuuuu caaaaaannnn’t uuuuuunnnnnnderrrrrrssssssstaaaaaaannnnnnd, IIIIIIIIII nnnnnneeeeeeed yourrrrrrrrrr heaaaaaaaarrrrrt tooooooo ssssssssaaaaaavvvvvvve myyyyyyy ssssssiiiiiiiisssssssterrrrrrrr.”
“The fuck does that mean?” I demanded, still trying to vain to pull my ankle from the chains. “How the hell will Kate’s heart save your sister?”
“Diiiiiiiiidnnnnnn’t nnnnnnneeeeeeed toooooo beeeee Kaaaaaaate’sssssss,” admitted Mrs. Larson, “buuuuuuuut sssshhhhhheeeeee hiiiiiiiiid theeeeee ooooooootherrrrr giiiiirrrrrrllllll ffffffrrrrroooooommmmm mmmmmeeeeee.”
“S-Son… Sonja…” Kate sniffed, the tears still streaming down her face.
“IIIIIIII oooooooonnnnnlllllyyyyy neeeeed fffffffeeeeeemmmmmaaaaallllle,” Mrs. Larson dismissed Ms. Greymoore’s name, “ffffffeeeeeeemmmmmaaaaaallllle heaaaaaaaarrrrrrrtsssss toooooo rrrrrrreeeeeetuuuuurrrrrrnnnnn mmmmmmyyyyy ssssiiiiissssssterrrrrrrrr toooooo theeeeeeee giiiiirrrrrllllll ssssshhhhhheeeee uuuuuuuusssssed tooooo beeeeeee.”
“That’s a fucking joke right?” I asked. “The hell makes you think eating a female heart will turn your sister back into a human woman? Have you seen what’s happened to your sister?”
“IIIIIIIII knnnnnnnooooooow beeeeeeecaaaauuuuusssssse iiiiiiiiiiit wooooooorrrrrked ooooooonnnnn mmmmmeeeeee,” Mrs. Larson explained, “IIIIIIIIIII waaaaaasssss aaaaaaablllllllle toooooo reeeeeeetaaaaiiiiiinnnnnn thiiiiiiiiiisssssss huuuuuummmmmmaaaaaannnnn fffffffooooorrrrrrmmmm ffffffrrrrrooooommmm eeeeeaaaaatiiiiiinnnnnng theeeeeeee heaaaaaaaaarrrrrtsssss, sssssspecifffffficaaaaaaallllllyyyyyy fffffffeeeeeemmmmmaaaaallllleeee sssssssooooooo IIIIIIIIII mmmmmmaaaaaayyyyyy rrrrrreeeeetuuuurrrrrnnnnn toooo beeeeeiiiiinnnng theeeeeeee giiiiiirrrrrrrllllll IIIIIII uuuuuuusssssed toooooooo beeeeeee.”
“You were dead,” I pointed out, “they found your body up here, you were buried.”
“Theeeeeessssssse sssshhhhheeeeeellllllsssss arrrrrrre mmmmmeeeeeerrreeeellllyyy veeeeeessssssellllllssssss ffffffoooooorrrrrr theeeeeeee sssssspiiiiirrrrriiiiiitsssss weeeee hiiiiiiiiiiide beeeeeneeeeaaaaattthhhh,” Mrs. Larson responded, finally turning her gaze to me, “IIIIIIII haaaaaaad tooooooo maaaake peeeopllllle beeeelieevvvve IIIIIII haaaaaad diiiiiiied tooooo keeeeeep frrrrroooommm theeeee poooooollllliiiiicccce ffffrrrrrrooooommmm pooookiiiiiinnnng aaaaarrrrouuuuuunnnnd aaaaannnnnd rrrrruuuiiinnnnniiinnnng eeeevvvveeerrrrryyythiiiiinnnng.”
“So, let me just get this whole thing straight,” I began as I started rubbing my temples, "when you and your sister starting into… Whatever the hell that thing you call your sister is-“
“Ooooouuuurrrrr sssssspiiiiiirrrrrriiiiiit,” Mrs. Larson corrected.
“Whatever!” I shot. “You found out that eating female hearts turns you two back into human women and to keep police from suspecting you, you pretended to be dead and… What? Just hope a shitty real estate agency would buy your property and you could just… Kill people, people with lives and families outside the mountains?”
“Thaaaaaaaat iiiiiiisssss cooooorrrrrreeeeect…” Mrs. Larson admitted, narrowing her eyes at me.
That’s when I began laughing hysterically, holding my sides that hurt with each harsh breath of a laugh I took. Both Mrs. Larson and Kate looked to me as if I had lost my mind and at this point I was starting to believe I had. Everything I had seen and heard about this entire case would put anyone in the looney bin. And I’m the damn fool who dug too deep into something he had nothing to do with.
“Whaaaaaat’s ssssoooo ffffuuunnnny?” Growled Mrs. Larson, stepping around Kate to stand between us.
“I don’t know what’s fucking funnier, honestly,” I chuckled, running a hand through my hair, “the fact that you thing people won’t be poking around even more when they discover not only is Blackwell missing, but so is a detective and escaped convict all of whom now have ties to these fucking mountains and those cabins, or that you thing I’m more afraid of what you plan on doing with me more than I am when her father finds out I got her in this situation in the first place!”
“Heeeeeee wooooonnnnn’t beeeee aaaaabllllle toooooo doooo aaaaaannnnnyyyyythiiiiiinnnng aaaaaaafffffterrrrrrr IIIIIIIII’mmmmm dooooooonnnne wiiiiiiiith booooooth ooooooooffffff youuuuuuuuu,” Mrs. Larson hissed as she inched closer, “fffffffiiiiiiirrrrrrssssst, IIIIIIIII waaaaaannnnnt youuuuuuuu toooo waaaaaatch mmmmmeeeee kiiiiiiillllll herrrrrrr,” she turned her head to look to Kate who was now just shaking, her eyes seemingly gone dry from the crying, Mrs. Larson then looked back to me, “sssssseeeeecooooonnnnd, IIIIIIII wiiiiillllll ssssssaaaaave youuuuu fffffooooorrrr mmmmmmyyyyy sssssiiiiiisssssterrrrr, oooooonnnnne heeeeaaaaart wiiiiilllll nnnnoooot ssssssaaaaaatissssfffffyyyy herrrr huuuuuunnnnnger.” She took another step. “Uuuuuuuunnnnnllllliiiiiike sssssssoooooommmme ssssssiiiiiibllllliiiiiiinnnnnngsssss, IIIIIIIII caaaaaarrrre aaaaaaboooouuuuut mmmmmmyyyyy ffffffaaaammmmiiiiilllllyyyyyy.”
She stared into my eyes, expecting a reaction and while my blood did somewhat boil at the accusatory statement, I didn’t fully understand what she was getting at. Not until she used that voice. Not until she relived that day with those two familiar child-like voices.
“Screw you, Liam!” She cried out in a voice I remember from my childhood. “I hope you drop dead!”
“Stop.” I demanded.
“Piss off, Ryan!” She shot back in a second boy’s voice.
“I said stop!” I began shouting.
“Help me, Ryan! Please, help me! I’m sorry! Please, Lucky Dime, help me!”
I then lunged toward her, reaching my hands out toward her neck only to be stopped by the shackles as she swiftly, almost without even moving, stepped just out of my reach.
“Fucking bitch!” I screamed out.
“If only you really cared about me, Lucky Dime,” sighed Mrs. Larson as she turned and began making her way to the side of the room where a cart stood in the shadows. She pulled it over to Kate’s side, the cart covered in rusted medical tools.
“P-Please,” Kate wheezed, “p-p-please… I… I d-d-don’t w-want… Want t-to d-d… D-Die, I… I w-w-want m-m-m… My m-mom!”
“Dooooonnn’t woooorrrrryyyyy,” Mrs. Larson soothed, using that mix of different voices, “mmmmmmaaaayyyyybeeee sheeee wiiiillll cooooommmme loooookinnnng ffffooooorrrr yooouuuuu aaaaannnnnd sheeeeeee caaaaannnnn joooooiiiiiinnnn youuuuuuu.”
Kate began to sob, begging and pleading for Mrs. Larson to let her go, thrashing around in her restraints. Telling the older woman that there was no saving her sister and that she was too far gone for this sick ritual to work anymore. I tried to yank at the chains once more, trying to loosen it at least enough to break free and grab at Mrs. Larson.
“Rrrrrrreeeeellllllaaaaax,” Mrs. Larson ordered as she began filling a syringe with some kind of clear liquid from a small bottle, “yoooouuuuuu woooooonnnn’t eeeeeveeennn fffffeeeellll iiiiiiit, thiiiissssss wiiiiiillllll puuuuuut youuuuu toooo ssssssllllllleeeeeep aaaaaannnnnnd wheeeeeennnnnn youuuuuu waaaaaake uuuuuuuup, youuuuuuu’lllllll beeee iiiiiinnnnnn heeeeeaaaaaaveeeennnnn… Uuuuuunnnnnnnllllllessssss youuuuuuu weeeerrrrrrre aaaaaa haaaaaarrrrrlllllooooooot, iiiiiiinnnnnn whiiiiiiiich caaaaaassssssseeeee, mmmmmaaaayyyy Goooooood haaaaaaaave mmmmmmmmerrrrrrrcccccyyyyy ooooonnnnn youuuuuur ssssssoooouuuuullllll… Aaaaannnnnd baaaaaaasssssed ooooonnnn hoooooow youuuuuu drrrrressss aaaaannnnnd theeeee coooommmmpaaaannnnyyyy youuuuuu keeeeeep,” She added as she eyed me, “IIIIIII ssssssaaaaaayyyy youuuuu haaaaaave aaaaa lllllloooooot ooooooffff fooooooorrrrgiiiiiviiiiinnnnng tooooo dooooo.”
Kate continued to cry as Mrs. Larson pushed the needle of the syringe into her arm, pushing down on the plunger as it pierced the flesh. Kate’s loud screams soon turned quieter and her red eyes began to glaze over, but she continued to stay awake, tightening her grip on the table and still begging to be let go.
“IIIIII waaaaannnnt youuuuu toooo waaaaatch, Detective,” Mrs. Larson spat out my title in Mr. Blackwell’s voice, “IIIII waaaaannnnnt youuuuu toooo waaaaatch herrrrrr fffffaaaaaade aaaaaannnnnnd mmmmmeeeee rrrrreeeemmmmooooove heerr heeeaaaarrrrrt toooooo ffffffeeeeeed tooooo mmmmmmyyyyyy ssssssiiiiiiiissssssterrrrrr,” she then pulled out a recorder, “theeeeennnnnn wheeeeeennnnn IIIIIII ssssssuuuuummmmoooooonnnnn herrrrrrr aaannnnd sheeeee fffffiiiinnnniiiishessssss oooooofffffff heeeerrrrr heeeaaaaarrrrrt, youuuuuuu’llllllll beeeeee neeeeeext.”
“Fuck you,” I snarled, “I hope you and your sister burn.”
“IIIIIIIII’mmmmm gooooonnnnnaaaaa gooooo aaaaallllllerrrrrrt mmmmmyyyyy ssssssiiiiiiissssterrrrrr,” Mrs. Larson turned and began making her way to the basement steps, “ssssseeee youuuuu boooooth ffffffoooooorrrr diiiiiinnnnnnerrrrrrr.”
She then pressed the play button on her recorder and a small, little girl’s voice echoed in the room before Mrs. Larson vanished up the steps.
“I’m here… I’m here… I’m here…”
Then the door slammed shut.
“De… Tec… Tive…” Kate squeaked out, her breathing slowing.
“Stay awake, Blackwell,” I ordered her gently, looking around frantically for anything to get us both out of this alive, “I’ll get us out of this, I promise, just stay awake, we’ll get out of here, I just need-“
“I’m… S… Sorry…” she breathed out. “I’m… So… Sorry… For… Get… Getting… You… In… To.. This…”
“No, no, this is not your fault!” I assured her. “That psychotic bitch got us both into this shit and I won’t stop until I get us out and put her and her fucking sister are six feet under!”
“W…Wha… What… H… Hap… Happened… To… To L… Liam…?”
I stopped struggling with the chains and turned to look to Kate. Her head was turned to me, her face wet, hands clenching as hard as they could to the table beneath her, the light in her eyes slowly fading second by second. She was trying desperately to stay awake. The medication Mrs. Larson taking hold of her as the minutes ticked by.
I dropped the chains that were in my hands, looking away from her, wanting to stare at anything other than another person I had failed.
“He was killed,” I answered, “we were fishing at a lake nearby… Lake Gaagige… We got into a really stupid ass fucking fight about how which fishing pole we were going to use. I wanted to use our dad’s, but Liam was older and said only men could use dad’s fishing pole… I told him… To drop dead and stormed off… When I got home, my parents dragged me back to the lake and scolded me for leaving him…” I trailed off, swallowing all the tears and screams I’d bottled up since that day. “When… We found… Him… The autopsy… Said he was mauled by a bear… I’ve blamed myself for leaving him there alone… For letting him die and getting killed like that… The last thing I ever told him was to drop dead… I was a shitty brother and now I’m a shitty detective…”
“Is… Is he… Why… You became… A… Detective…?”
I took a deep breath and swallowed the tears again. “No, Blackwell,” I answered, “he’s not why I became a detective… I already knew what had killed him… It was my fault… If I hadn’t been such a brat and stormed off… He might still be alive… And now… What that bitch said…” I replayed Liam’s screams that escaped Mrs. Larson’s mouth. “I’m starting to think I’m getting what I deserve. Karma’s back to kick my ass…”
“H… How… Old…?”
“I was six… Liam was eight…”
“N… N… Not your… F… Fault…”
I turned to look to Kate, her eyes on mine, however faded.
“Y… You were… Only… A k… Kid…”
I took another intake of what little air there was down in that basement. I had spent years trying to convince myself of the same thing, but those moments never got easier for me when those thoughts returned.
“I think you’re just being nice,” I laughed painfully, “but I’m afraid I- and my folks- don’t share the same sentiment.”
I was staring down at where the chains were coming from in the ground, Kate not saying a word for over a couple of minutes. I spun to see if she had fallen asleep and immediately tried to find out how to wake her up again. However, once I our eyes met, I saw that she was still fighting sleep, the last of her tears rolling down across the bridge of her nose and into her hair.
“I… I… I had… Had a c… Crush… O… On… J… Jasper…” she confessed, her voice getting quieter and higher. “P… Paul and… And Son… Sonja knew… I never… Never c… Cared f… For Luke… But I’m… Sure… S… Sonja t… Told him…” she looked like she was going to sob again. “I… I never g… Got the… Ch… Chance… T… To tell J… Jasper… I… Was… Scared… He… He and… P… Paul were friends… And I… I kn… Knew… How P… Paul f… Felt… A… About m… Me… I… I did… Didn’t wa… Want to… R… Ruin… Anyth… Anything…” She took a gulp of air. “I… I ha… Hated L… Luke… I… A… Always… Kn… Knew… He… He was a… Player… B… But Sonja… Said… Said she was hap… Happy… So… So I did… Didn’t wa… Want to g… Get in… H… Her way… B… But Luke d… Didn’t l… Like h… How cl… Close… We… Were… I d… Didn’t w… Want him to make… Make her th… Think I… I was l… Leading her o… On… T… To get them… To b… Break up… Th… Then… That n… Night… Sh… She w… Wanted to… To leave…” She let out two pained gasps of breath. “I… I let them down… I let them all down… Luke pro… Probably thought… Thought I w… Was the one who… Who f… Filled Sonja’s mind… With thoughts of… Of him ch… Cheating… Th… Then I… I got them… All killed…
I… I didn’t deserve them, d… Detective…” she went on, looking away from me to stare up at the water damaged ceiling, “I… I… I was a… Terrible… Terrible friend…”
“Did you read their guest book entries?” I asked.
“N… No… D… Didn’t w… Want to… To r… Read any… Anything p… Private…” Kate answered.
“Jasper didn’t blame you,” I assured her, remembering what he had written in his entry during his time watching Mrs. Larson just outside the cabin, “even when he heard the voices- when he heard Mrs. Larson- telling him to, he didn’t. I don’t think the others blamed you either. You didn’t do anything wrong, Ms. Blackwell, there’s no way you could have known any of this would happen.”
“K… Kate…”
“What?”
“C… Call… Call me… Kate…”
“Aright, Kate,” I let out what little laughter I had left inside me, “so long as we’re the last people we’ll be chatting with, call me Ryan.”
“R… Ryan…”
“If we at all live through this, I’m going to need a long vacation after this,” I said as I turned to look at my shackles again, looking around myself to try finding anything to Get free since a vacation sounded like something to die for at that moment, “do you know any good vacation spots I can book for the fall?”
“Y… You’re… You’re a… Dick…” Kate struggled to laugh.
“I also enjoy pineapple on pizza,” I winked as I reached down to my ankle, ready to break it just to taste that sweet combination of tomato sauce and fruit.
“G… God… I… I c… Can’t… Believe… I th… Thought y… You w… Were c… Cute…”
I sat down on the floor, grabbing my ankle with both my hands. Needing to hype myself up enough to do what I was going to do, I began removing my shoe and sock from the foot, rubbing and squeezing my way up and down the ankle to my toes. I had never broken a bone in my life before this and I definitely never thought I’d do it of my own volition, but this was a desperate time and it definitely called for desperate…
“Wait what?” I turned to look to Kate, finally registering what she had said.
However, just before I could be sure of what I heard, the sound of a hunting rifle going off just above our heads right before we heard the door to the basement swing open and immediately be slammed shut. Both Kate and I turned to see someone stumble down the wooden steps, his clothes torn and body scratched and cut to a nearly deadly degree. I was even shocked he was still breathing.
“M… Mr… R… Raines…?” Kate gasped out.
“What’s left of me at least,” Mr. Raines grumbled as he limped over to Kate and quickly began undoing her straps to the table, “damn thing almost ripped my head off, but one swing of the barrel to its eye and I was able to get away… Can’t say it didn’t do its damage though… I’m… Getting really fucking hungry…”
He shook his head violently before limping over to me. He then raised an eyebrow at me when he saw how I was positioned still on the floor with a bare foot in my hands shackled to the floor.
“I… I was… I… I thought you were-“ I stammered.
“I am,” Mr. Raines interrupted, “at least, I’m on my way there anyway.” He then retrieved my Glock from his back pocket. “I don’t know what that thing did to me, but I’m not gonna make it out of this alive, or the way I came in. It’s a massacre out there by the way. Lot of men in blue bodies out there… Very… Hard to ignore… Sure more will be on their way. So.”
With that, Mr. Raines pointed at my chains and pulled the trigger on my clock, barely giving me time to cover my ears as the sound rung out loudly in the basement. I shook my head, trying to undo the blurry and ringing side effects of the sound of a gun going off near your head. I gave the older man a glare before standing and snatching my Glock from his hands. That’s when I saw Kate shifting herself to the side of the metal table she was no longer tied to, trying to get her limbs to comply with her to help her off and on to the floor.
I ran over and grabbed her just as she nearly stumbled face first to the floor and lifted her up to her feet, her body heavy with lack of keeping herself up.
“Do you think you can walk?” I asked, trying to keep her on her feet.
“I… I don’t… I…” Kate stammered as she tried to push herself off of me while also using using me as a crutch until she could stand on her own. However, she didn’t seem to be able to put any kind of pressure on her legs without falling down.
“Kate?” A girl’s voice called out from above us.
Feeling Kate shudder, I realized that it must have been the sound of Sonja’s voice and Mrs. Larson was using her to keep Kate from running. I quickly swung my arm down behind her knees, pressing the other down on her back as I lifted her up off the floor, my Glock at the ready as I kept it pointed in front of me while my arm held up Kate’s knees.
“She must have heard the gunshots,” I pointed out, “how’d you get past her in the first place?”
“I set the other cabins on fire,” Mr. Raines answered as if it were the simplest of answers, “I had to distract her somehow and give those bodies she’d been eating a better fate than becoming her shit.”
“Are you planning on setting this place on fire too?” I asked.
“‘Course I am!” Mr. Raines exclaimed, seemingly offended I’d even ask. “I already doused it in gasoline, I ain’t wasting all that time!”
“Kate!” Sonja’s voice cried out, getting closer to the basement door. “Are you seriously leaving me here to die alone again!”
“Please… Make it… Stop…” Kate sniffed as she gripped my shirt and burying her face into the fabric.
“Let’s get you two out of here.” Mr. Raines began leading the way to the basement stairs, cocking his rifle as he did so.
“What about you?” I asked, immediately following after him.
Mr. Raines didn’t answer as he stomped up the stairs and kicked the door open to the first floor of the cabin. The stench of the gasoline he had spilled hitting me harshly in my face.
“Kate!” Sonja’s voice, along with a different crescendo of male voices shrieked out as Mrs. Larson appeared from the corner of the hallway where the basement was located.
“Leighton?” A different woman’s voice asked the moment the old woman’s eyes spotted Mr. Raines. I then watched in both shock and confusion as it almost looked like the very skin on the woman melted off to reveal a much younger woman. The woman I recognized as Bonnie Collins. “Leighton… Love is that you?”
Mr. Raines kept his rifle on the vision of the woman he once loved before her murder, but didn’t move or speak.
“Darling, I’ve missed you so much!” The fake Bonnie cried out as she began making her way to Mr. Raines with arms open wide to hug him.
Mr. Raines then lifted his gun up higher, placing his finger on the trigger which caused the vision to stop in her place.
“Leighton?” The fake Bonnie asked. “Baby, it’s me… Bun-Bun… Don’t you recognize me…?” She began to tear up.
“You’re not my Bunny,” Mr. Raines growled before he shot once at the woman.
The fake Bonnie swiftly dodged the bullet, an inhuman hiss coming from an unhinged mouth, revealing a row of long, sharp teeth. The skin of Bonnie then melted off to reveal another woman, a lot younger than the first one it intimidated. The face of one of the victims upon being brought on this case.
“Kate,” the fake Sonja called out, “Kate, what are you doing? Who are these men? Why are they trying to hurt me?”
Kate let out a sobbing gasp, her nails digging into my shoulder with her arm wrapped around my neck.
“Didn’t I suffer enough?” The fake Sonja asked. “First my boyfriend and now you? Why don’t you want to be with me anymore?”
“Shut up!” Kate demanded. “You’re not Sonja! You killed her, you killed all of them! I don’t care what happens to me, but I’m not letting their memories end with you!”
Kate then snatched my Glock from my hand under her legs and shot directly at the fake Sonja’s head. Again the shot missed as the fake vision of the girl slithered out of the way, a frustrated growl of a dog and human escaping it’s mouth. It then zipped to the side, cowering with its back to us on the floor.
“Lucky dime…” A child’s voice then took over. The vision’s skin melting now to a much smaller figure. “Is this what you want? To kill me all over again?” He turned to look up at me, Liam’s face forever eight-years-old staring up at me. “It’s no wonder mommy and daddy hate you now… You were always a shitty brother… Now, I’m gonna starve to death because you’d rather help a couple of strangers.”
“I’m sorry, Liam,” I replied, everyone, including the fake Liam looking to me in surprise, “I left you alone out here and that’s what got you killed by that thing out there and I’m sorry. But, if I’d stayed it may have been both of us and then mom and dad would have no one left to blame but each other. If you had left and I was the one killed, you’d probably be in my shoes instead. I’m sorry for letting you get killed, but I’m gonna make up for it now.”
I then took my Glock back from Kate and pointed it to the vision of Liam.
“Good bye, Liam.”
I shot the gun once again, missing the creature again, however, this time I just kept shooting, Mr. Raines following after. Our different bullets just kept firing, the thing dodging and trying to get closer to us. The creature screeched out at us in a myriad of different voices both familiar and unknown. It wasn’t until one shot from my Glock struck the creatures shoulder and Mr. Raines’ rifle struck its head when the skins of everyone it was trying to turn into all melted off, revealing Mrs. Larson once again.
However, this time, she looked shriveled, older than she looked before. Her face looked deformed, beginning to grow furry, her eyes growing nothing but red, no irises, no pupils, just red. Her hair grew longer, branches like antlers growing painfully out from her skull, breaking the skin as they grew larger. The lower half of her face grew elongated, turning into that of a muzzle of fangs and a drooling mouth.
“You… All… Have no rrrrrrriiiiiight!” A different, unknown voice snarled out from what used to be Mrs. Larson. “People liiiiiike you all… Abandoned me and myyyyyyyyy sister!” The fur growing around this thing grew out short and shaggy, the cloths it was using melting off with the skin and flesh it was wearing. It now didn’t look anything like a human woman. It now took the form of a large wolf mixed with that of a deer, it’s body dog-like with hooves, antlers, and a long, scraggly tail. “You lot abandoned us here! You left us all here to diiiiiiiie!”
Guilt was weighing down on me with each syllable it was growling. Kate looked away from it, burying her face in my neck as Mr. Raines lowered his rifle.
“Nooooow, you’re bringing more here to just leave and let die out here!” It went on, it’s horrifying, broken body shuddering. “Why let them just vanish and die up here when they can bring people like my sister and I back? Give me Kate’s heart and fix what you threeeeeeeeee failed!”
Mr. Raines then handed over his rifle to Kate, placing it down on her stomach as her hands were still wrapped around my neck. The older man made his way over to stand over the thing, its neck creaking like a rusted door as it turned its wolf-like head to look up at him.
“Leighton…” Bonnie’s voice came from the creature. “Give mmmmeeeee her heart aaaannnnd we can be togetherrrrr again… If you eat the deeeeeetective’s we can saaaaaave you tooooooo…”
“My Bunny’s dead,” Mr. Raines told it as he dug in his pocket and took out a carton of matches, “and so am I.”
“You’d burn your wife?” A mix of Bonnie and Mrs. Larson’s voices shrieked as it glared at the match he took from the match box.
“You’re not my wife,” Mr. Raines told it, “and I’ll never see her again.”
“Fooooooool,” Mr. Larson’s voice chuckled, “you’llllllll killllllll us both!”
“With the shit I’ve done in my life, I know you’re taking me to Hell with you,” Mr. Raines growled back as he struck the match on the box, “so I’m sure as fuck not afraid to burn here on Earth with you!”
Mr. Raines then dropped the match to the floor right before the creature and everything around the two of them immediately went up in flames, the fur of the creature catching quickly and engulfing it. An agonized shriek echoed out all around us, the creature thrashing in the fire it had gotten swallowed up in. Mr. Raines then grabbed it by it’s long, furry throat and swung it down back flat the floor, jumping to pin it down.
“Get out!” Mr. Raines cried out to me. “Leave here!”
Not needing to be told twice, I held onto Kate tightly and bolted past the two burning bodies, jumping over the fire as it began growing fast throughout the cabin. I quickly got to the front door and stopped to look back to see Mr. Raines fighting the creature and preventing it from coming after us, it begging for me to bring Kate back and that it would die without her.
“I’ll clear your name,” I called back, trying not to reel back in horror as I saw Mr. Raines skin begin to melt off, “I’ll let people know you didn’t kill Bonnie!”
“I’ll let people know you didn’t… Kill… Liam!” Mr. Raines’ voice called back, him thrashing around with Mrs. Larson as he said my brother’s name in my voice.
I turned back and kicked the front door open, rushing Kate out of the burning cabin. I ran until I got far enough from the smoke, turning back to see all three cabins now on fire, the area around them all ablaze. The only place untouched was Mrs. Larson’s house, all the evidence remaining. I could hear sirens in the distance coming closer. The sounds of shouts from the surviving officers sounding much closer.
“I’m here… I’m here… I’m here…”
I looked to the front porch of Mrs. Larson’s house where her recorder continued to call out for her sister. I set Kate down at the base of a nearby tree and ran to snatch the recorder, shutting it off. I searched around, looking for any signs of Prudence, but it appeared that the fire and the sounds of sirens and voices had scared her off. I ran back to Kate, her eyes closed and her not responding to me calling to her, but after checking her pulse and breathing, I found that the medication Mrs. Larson had given her had finally taken over and she was now fast asleep, the rifle Mr. Raines gave her still sitting on her rhythmically rising and falling stomach.
Letting out a sigh of relief, I leaned against the same tree I set Kate down on and slid down to the ground next to her. The first two cabins were already practically nothing but ash, the last still blazing as I heard the slowly fading screams of Mrs. Larson and Mr. Raines coming from inside.
When the screaming ended all together, the smoke turning blacker as it rose from the flames, I got to my feet and took out my pack of cigarettes as I approached the fires, staying far enough away not to get burned. I opened the pack up before stopping myself as I reached for one of the ten remaining cigarettes inside. I then flung the entire carton into the fires without taking one.
“Save one for me down there, you old bastard,” I told Mr. Raines before making my way back to Kate’s side.
It wasn’t long before the remaining officers found us, looking in confusion at the fires and to me with a sleeping victim in a homicide case on the ground. I told them we’d need to call an ambulance for Kate and that we needed to keep the flames from getting to Mrs. Larson’s house as it held evidence on the case. One officer retrieved his radio and called for an ambulance while a group ran to the house and another went to try controlling the fire as best they could by yanking out any bushes near by and throwing them away from the area around the house.
Luckily, the fire trucks were called long before the fire spread too far, residence noticing it practically the moment Mr. Raines set the first cabin on fire.
As I sat there, keeping Kate held up against the tree we sat under, I listened to the crackling of the fire, the sirens of fast approaching fire trucks and the ambulance, and the sounds of distance, coyote, almost human, howling.

Positives -
Noah, impressed with him the past few weeks. Seems to be getting the hang of it.
Nank. Solid.
Hugo, proper winger.
Dusty, lost his legs but was mint in the 1st

44, impressive yet again

Lefau, Baker, Rioli, Sam 🙌🏽🙌🏽
Negatives -
Pickett. Has become too unpredictable and thus unreliable.
Sonsie. Should’ve scored atleast 1 goal, that 3rd behind was criminal.
Lefau, hopefully it’s not the ACL.
Hopefully this nearly 60 point turnaround in 1 half doesn’t rattle the young blokes too much and they take this on the chin as a learning experience in composure and game management instead. It’s just so frustrating the injuries we’ve had, we could’ve done some real damage this year if we had our side fit. The comp is wide open imo

TL;DR Chapter preface.
1 Team spirit and perseverance to overcome injuries and the collective effort to win
2 Carlo’s coaching what’s best for the club and not his style adapting against the opponent
3 How ancelotti built the team around the regista - Toni kroos
4 Dortmund’s run to the final and tactics
5 Real Madrid don’t play finals they win them. The unique decades long tradition that will make Madrid win the champions league.
1.
I wanted to take a moment before the final to write about our season. I have written about our previous two knockout ties against city and Bayern but now we have finally arrived to the summit of our season and the summit of a Real Madrid team which we won’t see in the same way without our maestro and conductor - Toni Kroos.
I’m sure a lot of our fans would agree that if you would had to tell me at the start of the season after losing our starting GK and 2 CBs to ACLs (unprecedented in its own regard) and lose the likes of Vini, Tchou and Camavinga for long stretches that we would win the league dominantly with 95 points by over performing our expected XG and reach the champions league final - I would ask you to put down the crack.
But yet here we are almost 9 months later ready to compete to win our 15th what a privilege for our fans to witness this moment. In an interview recently after eliminating Bayern, Carlo said that this was the best group of players he has ever managed. The fact that he said that having coached the likes of legends in Madrid and Milan of the past speaks volumes of the perseverance and team spirit we have shown this season. The team like he said “never complained” and worked hard to overcome all the obstacles thrown at us. We only lost once in the league against atletico and that loss opened our eyes on what we had to fix defensively when we realised we we weren’t defending well from our right side having conceded from crosses. The tweaks made whether it was getting Fede to be more of a defensive workhouse, getting Vini to play centrally, asking Jude to play the free 10 role or making rodrygo and Vini interchange from the left. These are not easy things to do and players need time to adapt but this team has done a momentous job shifting from a 4-3-3 and adapting to a diamond 4-3-1-2 or rather a 4-4-2, and playing for the needs of the team.

1. This is where I would like to talk about Ancelotti and his ability to manage based on what the club needs rather than his own personal style. The reason why Madrid are historically successful is because they don’t have a “style” they adapt and have the clutch factor to win when it matters and achieve the unprecedented.

Managers like pep are positionist and rely heavily on rehearsed plays that hinder the expression of freedom from players. Real and Carlo as of late have always been relationist allowing for a flow or mixture and adaptation. Against city we had to play a mid block in the first leg and stop their build up before they can push into our box to force them wide. In the second leg after scoring we had to play a low block for 60 mins to stop them from scoring. These are examples of a team and manager synchronised in the approach that they must do whatever to win. Carlo spoke about when they played De Zerbi’s shakhtar and not pressing them allowed them to get the ball and beat them 5-0. It our ability to adapt in the moment that allows us to overcome our opponent even if the chips are down.

1. Carlo spoke of his regret when he coached Parma and had the opportunity to sign baggio who was a 10 and one on the best players in the world then, but Carlo refused to sign him because he was adamant to play with 2 strikers. When he coached juventus he realised the importance of incorporating a certain Zinedine Zidane as the central figure of the team.

Those who remember his Milan team played a similar diamond with CFs and a roaming cam in the likes of Kaka who was the main man scoring goals at a ridiculous rate, very similar to Jude this season a lot of people would say that he was the focal point of that team but in reality it was the “regista” in Pirlo who conducted that Milan team and everything was built around how Pirlo dictated the play. And that is why I would like to highlight that our team is built around the irreplaceable Toni Kroos, our regista who conducts and orchestrates the play. It is why we have been successful not just with the system this year but the past decade. Kroos is a unicorn who is capable of escaping pressure and finding the right passes without being over indulgent to a fault like Barca or pep. Kroos’ impact in the final will be monumental and it is only fitting for a legend like him to bow out with a champions league trophy.

1. I think we can all agree that when you look at our side of the bracket in our run of the champions league, every team in our bracket would mop the floor with the teams in dortmund’s side of the bracket. I’m not saying Dortmund don’t deserve to be in the final they have earned to be there playing a defensive approach that sees the entire team defend when they need to. They have fast paced dribblers in sancho and adeyemi and a physical box presence in fullcrug. Their centre backs rank the highest in long ball passes in Europe and they play in quick transitions like a German team. They’ve shown resilience to overcome their opponents but let’s not forget they did top the group of death and that is no coincidence. Upon watching their games I think the one that impressed me the most was their win against atletico at home. They have qualities to cause us problem so we should be vary of how we approach them.

What troubled us against leipzig was when they played to clog us centrally and cause us issues in turnovers. Against Bayern in the first leg we didn’t acclimatise to the width their wingers found to score. My only worry remains our aerial and set pieces defence with the likes of a physical target man like fullcrug supplied by pace around him we need to be careful but I’m sure Carlo and co are well prepared and I trust the team handles this Dortmund side and take them to task.

1. I want to talk about the aura of Madrid in finals and how “Real Madrid don’t play finals, they win them”. Some of you may be supporting them for the first time in a final while for some they may have lost track. Personally this will be the sixth time I will be watching them play the champions league final and in my heart I know we will win it. Real humility lies in accepting that your opponent can beat you even if you are the favourite but Real perseverance lies in knowing that we will never give up no matter what. That is forever ingrained in me from 10 years ago when Sergio Ramos equalised in 92:48 to make us destroy atletico 4-1. I have since watched us win from going behind early on, winning in penalties and brutally destroying our opponents. Just like Carlo says I cannot explain what it is but there is something special about this club, it’s the winning dna, the spirit of juanito the comeback mentality, the myth and legend of this club and shirt that allows us to transcend and excel.

If you believe that there is something special about this club then you will know that we will win tonight. A year ago I’ll never forget how low I felt as a fan when we lost 4-0 to city. We have come a long way since then and a long way in this tournament getting revenge against city and beating Bayern Munich. We have come a long way to this final to lose against a side like Dortmund. And I will back my statement by pointing out a unique tradition that sees us always winning the champions league whenever we eliminate the reigning champions.
We have ALWAYS eliminated the title holders in the UCL era whenever we have faced them in the knockout rounds. And guess what ? Each time that happens we go on to win the champions league!
1998 - Dortmund in SF agg (2-0) we Win the UCL
2000 - Manchester United in QF agg (3-2) we Win the UCL
2002- Bayern Munich in QF agg (3-2) we Win the UCL
2014- PEP’S Bayern Munich in SF agg (5-0) we Win the UCL
2022- Chelsea in QF agg (5-4) we Win the UCL
2024 - Man City in QF … ⏳
So Madridistas I would like to end this reflection by saying that no matter what I am super proud of what we have achieved this season it is the culmination and the complete rebuild of Madrid that will never stop winning.
HASTA EL FINAL, VAMOS REAL!

I had to go to the grocery store today. Was running out of food for the dog, short on milk and just needed some things. I haven't been out for a month because of my step dad.
I can't trust my step dad. He will just sit and watch TV while I am gone. He has dementia and 85 years old. Not too long ago he went outside in the shed. He slipped and fell. I didn't know he was outside he never tells me. His son came by for dinner and found him while I was outside vaping. I did walk around looking for him but just in the wrong places. But anyway I got out today because my step sister in law came by for awhile to keep an eye on him.
I went to Weis grocery store. While I was shopping I was getting my cat her canned cat food. It was taking me awhile because looking for different food for her I didn't find. I look up and this older guy is just standing there waiting for me. I told this guy he should have said something and I moved out of the way. We got talking about our cats. He has like fifteen plus cats that he takes care of, I have one. But I have my cat for a reason I believe
First of all I have had two cats. My first cat was about 18 years ago. She was a black cat that my neighbors supposedly were taking care of. My neighbors back then, at least the guy, were jerks. The father laid out in the sun in his bikini bottom and didn't do anything all weekend. I felt sorry for his wife and kids. They always had cats running around outside. This black cat came to me one day and I found some food for her. She kept coming back. She became my best friend.
I went through some very hard times. I even thought of suicide. You know what kept me from doing it? My cat Midnight. Just seemed like everytime she came to me I had peace. I go out for a cigarette she would come to me without me calling her. She would come because she knew I needed her. A few times she was sitting right outside the door. When she passed away she was in my arms. She was like my best friend, an angel at that. I really do believe God sent her to be my friend.
Then about a couple weeks before she passed away she ended up getting under the porch. We had a board off because we had to do plumbing work under there years ago and Midnight liked going under there in the winter. Now we had to get her out so she didn't just die. When we did we kept her inside and took care of her. A few days after this calico cat, her name is Reese, walks up to me outside. She's rubbing my legs and meowing. She just followed me inside. I kept her in my room until Midnight passed on. Now she is all over and a climber. My mom passed on a year later from pancreatic cancer. A lot of other crap happened in that year and if God hadn't brought Reese before Midnight passed on I don't know where I would be today.
I believe everything happens for a reason and what we decide changes our future. That's why we need to make sure we stay on a good path and not a bad one. Personally I don't think we need to try to be perfect because that's impossible but use common sense. There is always a better way and having faith is what helps you to get there. Sometimes we just need a little help and we get a friend

so i believe my BIL may have been physically abused. I noticed he often hits/smacks the kids. Usually. it also seems to be in front of us. This is really triggering for me as my parents used to hit us as well.
Anyway, the main incident recently is my nephew broke his leg about a year ago. He was around 10 when it happened. They were playing indoor soccer as part of soccer training. There was a "freak accident" were one of the other players accidentally kicked my nephew (instead of the ball), breaking his leg. This was what was told to us by his parents... It dawned on me later, is this even possible? does a ten year old have enough strength to break bones? He was in crutches, then recovered after a few months.
However there was another incident at a school camp where he played lawn bowls (after recovering from his injury). He then twisted his leg breaking it. This story also sounds dubious... as why would the teachers let him play that sport, knowing he recovered from an injury. While he was recovering, the dad/my BIL would touch his injury site, causing him pain and say things like he needs to move his legs etc. I can't help but think he might have caused the injury and made up the indoor soccer story to cover that. Firstly, is this possible to break legs in this way? I have other actions I plan to take, but thought to clarify this.

Weird injury happening at random
I can run Monday-Friday with no pain and feel great….but as soon as I do my long runs on Saturdays within the first 6-8kms I get this really weird pain in my right leg. Here’s a picture of where I mean:
https://www.upload.ee/image/16697264/IMG_5856.jpeg
So it starts kinda okay-ish and tolerable. But as I get further into the run the pain gets more.
It hurts especially if I bend my leg. Front and back.
After the run I can barely bend it because of the pain. Only happens when I bend it. (Like when I put my leg back and fortj like walking etc.
Here’s a better a picture:
https://www.upload.ee/image/16697276/IMG_5857.jpeg
Through Monday - Friday I run after work around 3PM.
On saturdays I run as soon as I wake up 9AM. Which is the only time it starts hurting.
I do no warmups or stretching prior to this.
what should I do?

The episode dates back to late Friday afternoon: the young man was bitten in the calf by the dog while he was crossing the courtyard of his house. The young man went independently to the emergency room for treatment.
The local police intervened yesterday afternoon at 6.30 pm on the southern outskirts of Saronno on the border with Solaro due to a young man bitten by a neighbour's pit bull.
The officers were alerted by the young victim, a 20-year-old who, crossing the courtyard of his house, found himself bitten by the dog on the calf. The boy returned and called the local police.
The officers who arrived on site carried out the first testimonies of the neighbors and the people involved.
The young man decided to independently go to the emergency room for medical treatment. The legal consequences of the accident will depend on the injuries that are reported and the victim's intention to file a complaint.
Article Link: https://www.ilbustese.it/2024/06/01/leggi-notizia/argomenti/cronaca-26/articolo/morso-dal-pitbull-del-vicino-ferito-un-ventenne-a-saronno.html

Hi everyone, I recently hurt my left knee while doing a standing quadricep stretch last week (weight on left leg), I lost balance and tried to correct myself, I then heard a loud cracking sound from my inner left knee.
I am still able to put some weight on my leg, extend and compress my left leg with some minor to acute pain. I also get some minor muscle spasms around the quads on-top of my knee
I went to the physio ASAP, they did some stretching and cycling work, had some acute and dull pain afterwards. they recommended and MRI as they thought it may be serious.
I got my MRI report back recently, here are the results:
Clicking sensation inside left knee following stretching. Acute pains and dull ache when touched. Localises the pain anterior and posterior to the left knee joint both medial and lateral aspects in accompanying patient's data sheet.
Technique: Axial, sagittal and coronal proton density with and without fat saturation and additional coronal Tl of the left knee.
Findings: Extensive abnormal intrameniscal signal change in the body and posterior horn of the medial meniscus, but it does not appear to breach the superior or inferior borders of the meniscus to indicate frank tear and it does not extend to involve the medial third of the meniscus.
Posterior root and meniscocapsular attachment posterior horn medial meniscus remain intact and normal. Medial compartment cartilage quite well maintained. Anterior and posterior cruciate ligaments intact.
Lateral meniscus and lateral compartment cartilage well maintained. Popliteus tendon and posterolateral corner structures appear intact. Tibial and fibular collateral ligaments intact and normal.Patellofemoral joint cartilage well maintained. Reasonably formed trochlea notch of the distal femur. Medial and lateral patella retinaculum appear normal. Slightly more than physiological amount of joint fluid. No Baker's cyst is seen. Insall-Salvati ratio 1 .1 and normal. Patellar tendon signal normal. No retropatellar or Hoffa's fat pad oedema is seen. Quadriceps tendon appears within normal limits.
Conclusion: No evidence of patellar tendinopathy. Abnormal signal in the body and posterior horn medial meniscus, more extensive than simple degenerative intrameniscal signal change, but does not breach the superior or inferior border of the meniscus to indicate frank tear. Might nevertheless be producing symptoms. No other potential cause for the knee symptoms identified.
By reading this report, I'm not certain if it's a strain, minor injury to the medial meniscus or something else and seeking further clarification.
I am a 27 year old male, 5'10 roughly 79kgs, a little out of shape. Weak core, tight glutes and hamstrings. Also weak lumbar back due to recent back injury.
Also seeking guidance, supplements and exercises to increase my chances of a optimal and quick recovery.
This has also taken a toll on my mental health as well as my recent back injury.
Appreciate any advice.

Some 3-4 months ago i tore my acl, at least thats what they think. They told me to go to physio, i interpreted what they said as they would fix the appointments for me. But my knee felt fine, i never had any problems walking past the first day. The day of there was no swelling and there was minor pain, only time it really hurt is when i extended it a lot.
To this day the injury was almost forgotten, as it wasnt really a nuiscance in day to day. The only times i would be reminded was when i accidentally extended it way to far (as to lock my knees) and ive even started training legs again while weight lifting with no pains at all, minimally less stability in the knee due to sore/used muscles but that goes for both so. Ive had no noticable instability in the knee past the first 1-2 weeks.
Ive ordered a physio to talk about recovery and surgery, but for me it feels like surgery almost isnt needed? Or am i stupid for going back to weightlifting without surgery.
I also started playing beach volleyball again, with minor pains.
Is complete recovery without surgery possible for minor tears? Because that is the path i feel i am on right now.

Hi everyone, Having some degree of hypermobility runs in my family, I haven't had a doctor or physio tell me themselves I am hypermobile, but I can do nearly all the things in the beighton test and can press my palms together behind my back and things like that. I was also born with hip dysplasia and had to go in a harness as a baby so my legs wouldnt dislocate - the joints there are very stiff to this day! I thought all of this was normal so it's a bit of a revelation. I've struggled with fatigue and aching in my arms and legs for years and wondered if it can be related and if anyone knows ways of easing it?
If anyone knows any good exercises for hypermobility to try that would be amazing. I like yoga, pilates and dance and love how stretching joints feels, but I have read this can actually be damaging if you're hypermobile and don't do strength training. Any advice on how to build strength and ease pain/fatigue while potentially hypermobile? It would be very appreciated 💗

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Ceele strolled through the damp grass along the outskirts of the village, a spring in her step and the dwindling scent of dew following behind. It rained yesterday, which had prevented her from going out to gather supplies, but the mild morning air had been accommodating enough for her to get an early start and make the trip. She was glad she did.
One hand clutched her new prize to her chest, while the other held a fraying wicker basket filled with herbs and some edible roots she gathered by exploring the forbidden forest. Despite her reservations regarding where she chose to go, her excitement now lingered like a steady thrum of shifting stones, giving her energy that defied how long she had been walking. She all but pranced beneath the burgeoning night's sky, gleefully toeing the line between the dirt pathways of the settlement’s outskirts and the trees of unclaimed land. Normally, her path back home would never be so close to the village, but she was far too gleeful to mind. She had come back with a sense of fulfillment and a rare object—or if not rare, then hopefully of great value.
It was hard to point to any one specific reason that she came across the orb. There had always been a ‘draw’ during her travels, urging her that there was something missing in her life, yet it was no more than a mild whim to walk in a particular direction more often than not. Once she reached this part of the continent, she was compelled to wander, never quite able to explain why she obliged the sensation besides having nowhere in particular to be. Even when she finally settled somewhere, it stayed in the back of her mind, suggesting that she was close to whatever would make the pit of vacancy go away. She ignored it, purposefully distracting herself with her work and responsibilities, yet that could only last so long. When she awoke this morning with plans to resupply, and all of her newfound spots had been picked clean by wildlife, she turned to the depths of the forest where she was warned not to tread. It was all too easy to follow the subtle tug in her chest through the loose justification.
The urge to be somewhere grew unbearable with every step closer to the forbidden area. That sense of having a direction she needed to go became stronger and stronger, until she was well into land long since forgotten. She came across an overgrown depression in the hillside, and was entranced by the foreboding image. Something about the cave just…beckoned her. She was far too weak to resist.
Horrible tales echoed into her ears as whispers of fearful voices, warning and unending, yet but a dull drone compared to her hammering heart. She navigated the trees and brushed aside unkempt vines, stepping into the cavern with a mix of expectation and trepidation, then laid eyes on the small obsidian stone perched atop a crumbling pillar. The feeling of needing to travel somewhere…stopped.
The pull was absent, which was why she held the orb close instead of placing it into her basket. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but she recalled overheard tales of hidden gemstones, deep cavernous expanses, and the untold terrors that lay within. Comparing the scenes of those fables to the cave seemed foolish now; it wasn’t some torturous chamber, but a dusty depression in a small hillside. Besides, anything this pretty was sure to be worth a fair sum, and she needed the coin. Yet the thought of selling the precious-looking stone was a conflicting one. She shook off the thought for the time being, turning her attention back towards where she was going.
Shadows stretched and faded as the moon stole the last of the illumination afforded by the sun, replacing it with a calming glow that caressed the log frames and thatched roofs of various homes. A star-filled sky came into prominence as clouds lazily drifted away, revealing the promise of tomorrow’s fair-weathered arrival. It was too late for anyone to notice her treading on the edge of their town while lost in thought, but she was still careful not to get too close to the houses or livestock pens where people might be finishing the evening’s duties. It was best that they didn’t see her returning from a place she was told not to go. Still, her feet carried her near the dwellings as she took in the noises.
Ceele enjoyed the comforting chatter from a distance. Indistinct words floated freely. Meaningless gossip and warm goodbyes were exchanged between friends and family. Places of various occupations were dark and quiet, only the faint contented mewls and clucks of livestock coming from their pastures as they ate what was recently put out for them. No metal rang throughout the streets as it was struck inside a centralized smithy, no heated bartering came from an overactive trade house, and the crunch of dirt beneath transport or merchant wagons was absent, replaced by the rapid steps and yelps of children rushing to their homes before it got too dark out. It was all just gentle conversation and life drifting through the wind, taking the rustle of leaves along for the ride, just so she could hear it. Tranquil, in a word.
She wondered what it would sound like if she were yet one more voice within that crowd of kindness. Would it be loud like the larger cities? Would she struggle to maintain a thought with so many stray topics floating about? Would she once more yearn for the peace and quiet of solitude that she had grown used to, or would she immerse herself, free of judgment and laughing like the carefree young that scampered about? Did thinking about it even matter?
Her smile fell from its genuine intensity—still worn, but not as fully. She glanced downward as her stride lost its jubilant bounce, her tail losing its sway as her grey eyes examined the dry black scales that adorned her body against her wishes. It was the ugly hue of tarnished oil, unlike the skin of any other kobold she had met. Some had reds or greens, yellows or whites, while most were between a sandy tan or earthen brown. The rainbow of peculiarities was displayed by the lucky few, and she was one of them…
…Yet she was different in the worst of ways.
Even if she would rather any other colour, she supposed it was that way to make sure no one came near without accepting the unspoken risks. That was what her mother always said, anyway, though the woman hardly feared much of anything in her old age, and dedicated herself to giving her offspring all the love she had left to give—a perk of living a full life. She would always help her daughter bathe, complimenting the colour of what most were unnerved by. That was more than a decade ago now, however. Ceele’s parents had passed on while she was still young, and she took to travelling not long after, working at what she could to afford what little she needed. Never for long, though—just enough to get to the next town between where she was and where the urge to go lay. There were certainly moments she looked back on fondly, but the journey had taken its toll.
The crude material of her ‘dress’ was coarse, old, and heavy, but it helped ease the worst of spring's chill—even if it was more of a modified sack than proper attire. Still, it was all she had after the last of her clothing fell apart, and giving the repurposed material a name that reminded her of something else made it less uncomfortable to wear, somehow. It would have to do until she could afford a pitying seamstress or the like. Until then, she would pretend she didn’t look so desperate, even if it only highlighted her status and made finding work difficult.
But it did. The dishevelled garment was a far cry from the wonderful silks or breathtaking designs she had seen some women wear, harshly marking the distinction between herself and those of affluence. The clothing of commoners was also a leap in style and quality, so she couldn't say her attire was up to even modest standards. No matter how hard she squinted, and no matter how much she fantasized otherwise, she seemed every bit like the vagrant she was, down to the soil embedded in the curvature of her claws and the stains throughout her fabrics. She looked like a serf from the more oppressed lands, yet they too wore crude cottons, which said a lot about how she appeared to those who had never lived a life of servitude. It was obvious that she was an outsider. That she didn't belong amongst the rest. It made changing something as simple as her appearance all the more difficult; prospective employment always saw a young woman who seemed more likely to steal or swindle than make an honest day’s living.
There was one good twist of fate in recent memory, however, and she came upon the result of it after leaving the slowing bustle of the village behind. Her steps carried her through a small copse of trees on the outskirts of town, the small shaded path leading to the back of a large, carefully pruned clearing, a scattering of fruit-bearing trees providing even darker shadow than the already dim moonlight. She skirted along the aging fence on the border that kept predatory animals away, carefully hoisting herself over the barrier where a large vegetable garden she was responsible for tending resided. If one were to tell her she would be living in such an area several months ago, she would have smiled politely and walked away, yet here she was.
A modest, warmly lit home occupied the middle of the clearing, sitting front and centre when one approached from the village path. It looked quite cozy, surrounded by berry bushes that were just beginning to bloom as the last dregs of winter slipped away. A front patio displayed a nice table and well-loved chairs, the rustic appearance only adding to its charm as a place where friends and family spent the warm summer afternoons. A smithy to the left of the house functioned as an additional heated building during the colder months, but usually served as a storefront and to muffle the sounds of hammered iron, though that had become less common. An old stable was nearby, close enough to be accessible, but not so close as to disturb the once occupying animals with sounds of iron craft. It hadn't seen a horse in quite some time, apparently, so it was mostly a workshop for whatever tasks didn’t require fire or metal.
There was a long history attached to each little detail—from the scuffs along the wooden siding to the depressions in the ground where daily routine wore into the earth. Every fault suffered throughout the years was matched by a thousand quirks that made it feel welcoming, like the house itself was merely waiting for the next friendly face with one of its own. She knew that the inside of each building would look just as cared for.
Her concern lay outside, however. It was a comparatively miniscule space just barely visible through the sheltering trees, true, yet it was where her efforts turned into tangible results, and where a stranger’s trust was painstakingly repaid. Once overgrown grass had been laboriously trimmed, the weeds plucked and disposed of, and now nothing distracted from what she could claim she had done.
The small plots of rock-bordered soil had little buds of growing vegetables, a sense of pride never failing to bloom in her breast with the knowledge that it would be barren without her touch. When her troubles and concerns grew heavy, and fears of the future or spectres of the past loomed over her head, she could look at where she had brought life where it wouldn't otherwise be. Some days, that was enough. She smiled in appreciation at what was admittedly amateur work, the night’s sky helping to hide any inevitably made mistakes.
She enjoyed the sight for a moment longer, then turned to walk towards a neglected old tool shed that was well out of sight within the trees, far away from whatever warmth and comfort the larger house offered to everyone and anyone. She put a hand on the degrading wood of the entryway, giving one last sad smile at the garden as she dismissed selfish thoughts of taking the eventual harvest for herself. A breath cleared the uncertainty from her voice, and she pushed open the door.
“I'm home!”
= = = = =
It took a while for Altier to adjust to his situation, and even once he accepted that his mana wasn't being siphoned, he was still reeling from confusion. He had spent centuries with every year passing by without his notice, yet now he was painfully aware of each creeping second languidly dragging on with the expediency of growing grass. It was as disorienting as it was painfully nostalgic.
Time was something he was never good with, and it only got worse as a dungeon. He'd get lost in creating rooms, corridors, creatures, and whatever else needed doing, only pausing to watch or listen to the few adventurers he became interested in. There was a stint where he spent what felt like hours agonizing over new abilities or options while he let the system manage things in the background, though he supposed it might have been much longer. So many wasted days, yet he still hadn't managed to try everything he had gained access to. Some abilities were simply too niche, came with concerning titles, or held descriptions that made him wary. Anything with ‘Decay’ in the name was instantly ignored—he didn't need more reasons to fear his affinity, and from the few he took the effort to read through, they were always vile.
But his existence for the moment was no longer like those endless stretches spent pondering the minutiae of what would help his adventurers grow stronger. Now, he could follow the rhythmic sounds of footsteps and steady breathing that set a calming pace. They were someone else's, yes, but they contextualized how easy it was to slip away without the subtle noises of life that he had long since surrendered to help his family. Of course, there were more differences that he noticed since being removed from his crumbling cavern, and his sight was the newest change.
He never gave much thought to how far he could see before. Why would he? As a man, his world extended as far as he could fathom, yet was also confined to the room where he spent his days, and as a dungeon… Well, who was he to consider distance when an event happening miles away could be seen with a flicker of thought? Nothing was too far when it was within his creation. Or his ‘body,’ he supposed. Sadly, his entire perception currently consisted of the small sphere of his obsidian core, and maybe a finger's length beyond it—which is to say, not much. He could make out the fine details in the dirty burlap he was held against, and how pale moonlight slowly took over the blurred reds of sunset, but hardly anything more. It was all just frosted colours after a certain point, and he found it infinitely frustrating. He just wanted to peer beyond the haze and scaly hand holding him to confirm that the sky he remembered was still there. Alas, the sunlight faded at too quick a pace, yet one oh so agonizingly slow.
The ensuing darkness gave him nothing to do but think about where he was, not that he had any ideas. He was too curious about why he wasn't dead to bother much with his blurry surroundings after the soft-spoken kobold abducted him, thus why he only belatedly noticed how limited his worldview had become. There might have been a forest beyond his cave, but the greens and browns were gone, and the sounds of steps through brush was replaced by the distant din of a village. An idle curiosity pondered if he would recognize any descents of his ‘family tradition’ adventurers there, but he was being carried by what most considered a monster, so likely not.
That short musing was short-lived, however, and he brought his focus back to the matter at hand. He supposed he was being taken somewhere specific, but that was an obvious deduction, considering he was taken at all. The why of the matter was less so; for what purpose would someone want a Decay-aligned core? He hadn’t heard of them before…well, before he was made into one, but he couldn’t imagine many uses. Maybe he was being sold? His…kidnapper? His sudden companion seemed rather pleased by their discovery of him, so that might be the case, and it was morbidly amusing to think that a frail, sickly young man might one day become a coveted, highly valuable item. His abduction could also be a part of some cult’s nefarious activities, but he didn't want to think about that too hard. He experienced enough odd ceremonies from the adventurers who took the time to tell him their tales.
Either way, he wasn't in the dungeon anymore, and he couldn’t see where he was going. He tried to query his menu to glean an answer, but was met with a scrambled mess he suspected read ‘Synchronizing…’ and little else. It gave him a headache trying to make sense of it—which he didn't know was possible anymore—so he dismissed the text and distracted himself with blurs from whatever diluted senses he still had. There wasn’t much to observe other than the constant footfalls and the flicker of shadows on his companion’s burlap garment. They might have travelled through brush again, but it was too dark to really say for certain.
Eventually, there was something new. He heard an old latch rattle and rusted door hinges groan, then a shuddered clack that confirmed he was now in a building. His kobold acquaintance gently cooed at something before moving about the nearly pitch-black space, finally setting him down on a… He wasn’t sure what it was, besides old and wooden.
[D$#@m$n E@$*ded]
The headache from before became a blinding migraine that suffocated him under a flash-flood of suffering. Seconds passed in abject torture until it blissfully abated, the mental blinks clearing his mind enough to notice a change in his existence. Specifically, he could actually see something besides the rotting wood grain he was placed on top of.
And it wasn’t anything promising…
He was more or less in the centre of a room no bigger than twelve paces by maybe ten. Not a terrible size for a space, but it was clearly never meant to house someone. His resting place looked about as neglected as he surmised; it was an upturned feeding trough, he supposed, since calling it a table seemed too generous. The surface was rife with holes and degraded iron, so it was something that once saw regular use before being replaced and tossed into storage, never to see the light of day again.
Actually, most things in the room seemed to fit that description. The window shutters were installed with metal hinges that had since rusted them closed, the misalignment letting in a draft—and whatever weather was outside as well, most likely. A poorly carved bowl sat on the floor, the stain beneath it hinting that it collected any rainwater that slowly dripped from the leaky roof. The wooden floorboards looked old, splintered, and in need of maintenance or replacement, though an effort had been put into abrading it somewhat smooth lately.
A tiny and decrepit fireplace was to the left of the door upon entry, its brickwork slowly crumbling due to weathering and age. It was sized more for keeping the room warm during mild days than to keep away the frigid chill of night. Its base only held cold ashes, but there was a collection of deadwood and scraps nearby, so that would probably be rectified soon. A small wheel-less cart had been turned into storage against the opposite wall, some herbs and other foraged items stowed away in it for future use. Various things he remembered seeing his father and brothers use in the fields were scattered about, too. It was nostalgic to see, honestly, even if his recollections had blurred over time.
Bundles of tattered blankets formed a pair of nests in the far corner, the smaller of the two had a pile of rough plants nearby. That answered his silent pondering of the room's purpose somewhat, though he was pretty sure the bedding material was salvaged, and there didn’t seem to be any hay or padding underneath whoever was sleeping on it. He didn’t know what to think about the weeds; they were purposefully placed there, and whoever did so had taken the time to wash them, but it was still strange.
He couldn’t see a doorway besides the entrance, yet most of the hallmarks of residency were put where space could be afforded, however crude. All in all, he surmised that it was a gardening shed of sorts, and his new acquaintance apparently lived here. He wasn't sure what he was expecting when a creature he had only read about came into his dungeon, but it wasn't being brought to a rundown and decrepit shack for unknown purposes.
Even if he had been raised by parents who made a humble living at the best of times, and they had emptied their coffers for unsuccessful attempts to ease his ailments, his acquaintance's living space made him uncomfortable. His family's house was never anything fancy, true—it shared some of the worn qualities that inevitably gathered over the years—but it was never this bad. His home benefited from a father's touch keeping it robust and a mother’s love keeping it warm, whereas this place had seen neither in quite some time. Oh, there was evidence that such was once the case; a wall was adorned with carefully made and well-spaced hangers for the various gardening tools, though the implements themselves had become a victim of neglect. That being said, he could make out the fresh soil and recent scratches exposing furrows of silver, so they were seeing use again.
A scrape and clack of flint drew his attention to his kobold companion. They were kneeling in front of the fireplace, methodically sparking life back into a dead flame with twigs and dried leaves. A slow, steady breath into the reddened base illuminated its face with a dull orange glow, revealing its weary visage and the permanently etched smile that rested beneath its cold grey eyes. The black-scaled kobold looked tired, if he were to guess—much the same as Altier did when he spent countless days watching everyone living a life he could never have through the mossy window of his bedroom. He was probably humanizing it too much. Still, he was surprised by the muted pang of sympathy, and how he would feel much more than blithe curiosity after spending so much time alone in the crumbling crypt of his own making.
A mental breath cycled through him as he looked at the odds and ends yet to be observed. Hardly anything else was of note—everything else was degraded and neglected, too. He did notice a nest of blankets move though, which was as good a distraction as any. The answer to his previous ‘pile of weeds’ inquiry poked a tiny nose from a crease in the fabric, then rapidly pawed at the blankets to dig itself out. Altier stared at the creature in both recognition and confusion.
It was a rabbit…or at least it looked like one, assuming you were to also describe a porcupine and a sea urchin as well. He was pretty sure he didn’t remember any hare that had jagged metal-tipped fur, nor that had said fur arranged into a row of spiked horns that flowed down its spine, terminating at a large fluffy tail, which was equally bizarre to see. The whole of its coat could double as a weapon, with semi-sharp barbs sticking off seemingly at random, yet he remembered an adventurer saying most animals used that sort of thing defensively. He increased his focus as he tried to make sense of the odd creature. Surely he would have heard about—
[Hoppittttttt#%%÷ — Ferro-o-orabbit-it (Ma%$le)
Abil—]
[Null]
[Er0Rrrrrrrr—]
[Und#$f—]
He bit back the pain caused by the sudden intrusion of his menu, blanking out the text and mentally retreating to hide from the source. Did he just inspect something? How? Shouldn’t his entire…‘framework,’ was it…? Yes, that was it. Shouldn’t that have been corrupted? Why could he see the creature’s information when his entire framework was damaged? That was the first ability he lost, so why is it the first to be functional? How was it functional? Was it? It did just spit garbled text at him, but it was something, and that was more than he had gotten from it in a very long time. If it was somehow working—no matter how poorly—then that left the question of why he hadn't heard of anything called a ‘ferrorabbit’ before, assuming he read that correctly.
A soft thud vibrated the tro— table, startling him out of thought. He turned his attention to the button nose wiggling erratically at him, the short, stubby muzzle leading to surprisingly expressive and curious red eyes. Dull brown fur jutted off in random tufts and patches, changing to a darker tint on its paws and the upper half of its ears, while the tips of its spikes were a muted hue of iron. It still seemed just as soft as the less pointed variety he remembered, if a touch dirty. Upright ears twitched this way and that way as its head vigorously shook, eventually settling on pointing in his direction when it calmed down enough.
It was apparent that he had its undivided attention…for all of a few seconds. His scaly companion called something out in their foreign tongue, and whatever conclusion the pointy-furred animal came to, it seemed more interested in the kobold, parting from him after nudging his core with its nose.
[Cre-e-e—]
[Errrrrrr0r: Undefiiiiiiii—]
[Acceeeeep-t-t-t??]
[Yeeee— s s / Nnnnnnn—]
He winced at the intrusion, but the contents detracted from the pain. He couldn’t remember the system ever asking him a question without his explicit intent being involved. It wanted him to…accept something? Was it the system prompting him, or the animal? What was he to accept?
[Creatuuuuu—]
[Acce-e-e-%#@ed!]
…What?
= = = = =
“Hoppit, that's not food!” Ceele admonished half-heartedly, placing a larger branch on the burgeoning flame before she got to her feet. She wasn’t actually that worried; the stone was as big as his head, and she was pretty sure he couldn't bite into it. Hopefully. “Come here, momma has a treat for you!”
The ferrorabbit playfully bumped the gemstone and jumped off the low table, landing with a soft thud that belied how heavy he was for his tiny size. He wiggled in excitement, his ears flailing and releasing a slight clack whenever the two connected. It got even louder when she grabbed her basket and put away the useful herbs, taking out a specific item that she had gathered just for him. The little bun wasted no time in scurrying over and standing tall on his hind legs to judge if the offered plant was to his liking—and it was, based on how he dug in with enthusiasm. She stifled a laugh as she contentedly watched him nibble away on the treat, ignoring the guilt that came with knowing she couldn't afford proper vegetables for him. He had a hard life too, and it tore at her to have so little to give.
She came across Hoppit a year ago, during a storm that worsened while she was travelling between towns. The day had darkened to night in spite of it still being about noon, but the weather didn't care for how bright it was supposed to be. Wind and rain became a typhoon, forcing her to seek shelter in a thankfully abandoned den of what was probably a larger animal. She was fine with waiting out the squall, since the stone roof over her head was more than she usually had back then, but the sounds of dull bangs and thuds near her hideaway was followed by cries of animals yelping in pain. Curiosity won over reason, and she left the safety of her shelter to see what was causing the disturbance. Truthfully, she was hopeful that she'd come across scraps or the like, her hunger driving her forward, and she could always turn back if it seemed dangerous. Yet when she arrived at the source of the commotion, she found herself thinking of anything but food.
Two predators had fought over a small burrow, both trying to dig out a meal and taking offence to the other doing the same. What they didn’t know was that they were assaulting the home of ferrorabbits. Specifically, the home of an angry, protective, and well-fed mother that was keeping her newborns safe from the storm when predators decided to try their luck. From the scene Ceele came across, it was certainly obvious why most people dislike trying to hunt the creatures.
Sadly, the rabbit didn't survive an attack from two predators, but she did make their victory pyrrhic; neither could do much about their hunger with their bodies full of cuts and holes, and it was only a matter of time before they succumbed to blood loss or infection. The mother's sacrifice meant that the babies had avoided the imminent threat, but they were left unattended as a consequence, and it took an opportunistic bird swooping down to shake Ceele out of her shock. Despite her subsequent hurry, she only acted in time to save one of the orphaned young. The warren was new and barely dug out, which meant that it didn’t take much effort for the kits to be found—by both her and hungry maws. All she could do was scoop the ball of fluff into her arms and run back to the cave before anything else tried to eat it.
In retrospect, it was a stupid decision for a number of factors. She barely had the resources to supply herself, and an attempt to raise offspring of any type would only make the inevitable heartbreak worse. But when she saw how quiet and scared he was… How his tiny, shaking body calmed in her arms, those terrified red eyes seeking comfort… She should have just walked away when she knew there wasn’t going to be anything to fill her stomach. She should have put the baby animal down and let nature take its course…yet the preciously furry face stole her heart far too quickly for it to grow so cold. The next day was spent backtracking to the nearest town to get him something suitable to eat, which used most of her meagre savings. Still, it was worth every coin.
Hoppit had been accompanying her ever since. He grew quickly, transitioning from something she saved that stormy night into a presence she had grown to love like a child. The little lagomorph would bounce along beside her during her travels, then ride in her arms as he rested—though the latter happened with worrying frequency as of late. She hadn’t learned much about the springy herbivores, but she knew enough to say that he wasn't as big as he should be, nor was his fur as sharp. No matter how startled he was, his spiky coat never managed to do more than stiffen slightly, which was apparently a side effect of poor diet, according to snippets of conversation she had overheard on the topic. She wanted him to be healthy, but she didn't know what he needed. Not many farmers raised ferrorabbits, and those that did were far away, so she didn’t have anyone to ask what she should be doing. Her best course of action was to give him what little she had.
Ceele was well aware of how he would be better off on his own, but he followed her whenever she tried to set him free. Hoppit just kept launching into her arms and wiggling his ears, ecstatic that he was with her again, uncaring that food was scarce and that they spent most of their days travelling. No amount of cold nights spent bundling up under the tattered blankets she managed to find ever dampened his spirits, and he was content to eat the grass or flowers whenever he felt like it, oblivious to the fact that he wasn’t getting enough nutrition. He would dig and excitedly drag back oddities that he found, and the one time he found a plant that looked particularly good for him, he insisted that it be shared with her.
A black pit still lingered in her chest when she recalled how pleased he was while he munched on the rare vegetable he discovered, then how distressed he became when she wouldn’t have any as well. He bumped and nipped at her, all but begging her to eat. His ears pinned back against his head, his fur bristled in a way she hadn’t seen since. It was only when she took a small bite and let him inspect the new teeth marks that he seemed to calm down, but perhaps she had been looking too deep into the actions of her tiny friend. All she could say for certain was that he was scared she was going hungry.
A morbid thought wondered if his first mother had refused food shortly before being attacked, and he—as small and simple as he was—had connected the two events in his mind, making him absolutely terrified that something would happen if Ceele didn’t have something too. All of that fear, and desperation overwhelmed him, just because she was happier watching him eat. She was determined to erase that issue. She would find something that needed a worker and earn enough to feed them both. One day, she would be able to smile at how big and healthy her little fluffy boy had become, but until then, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to think about how she was spending so much time growing vegetables and fruit that he couldn’t have…
Every morning was an exercise in tending to the gardens while actively shoving down images of a pleased ferrorabbit happily eating the results. That never went well; no matter how determined she was to complete her duties without a single selfish thought, most tasks were done while picturing his full belly and delighted bounces. There were a few weeks until the fastest of the crops would be ready for harvest, and Ceele would have to collect them while fighting the urge to bring back just a few for him.
She couldn’t, because she knew exactly how quickly that could escalate. It would start small—A vegetable here, a fruit there—but seeing Hoppit happy was one of the precious few good things she had in her life. Crossing the line would only become easier each time. They couldn’t risk losing their new home over greed, and she was already betraying the trust given to her by housing a wild animal, especially one known to be a pest for crops. She didn't want to know how angry it would make her benefactors if she was caught taking their vegetables for one.
No matter how tame and precious Hoppit was, and no matter how well he listened, they would only see him as the same creature that ruined harvests in droves. Thus was why she had to tell him to stay cooped up by himself while she was working or scavenging. And to her surprise, he did.
Honestly, she had made the initial request with the expectation of needing to carry him back into their home until he understood that she wasn’t leaving him forever. There wasn’t much she could do to stop the ferrorabbit from digging through the old wooden building if he wanted to get out. He wouldn’t need to damage anything either—a rotting board on the door only needed a little push to nudge it out of the way, and his natural curiosity made sure he was aware of it. But no, Hoppit was well-behaved as always, keeping hidden until she walked through the door, where he would leap from the shadows to personally show her how good he was and how he stayed put like she asked him to. It never stopped amazing her that he had such a surprising level of understanding despite being an animal, and that was to say nothing of how young he was.
All that intelligence, joy, and companionship he offered her…and yet the best she could give back to him was the weeds from the garden and the odd plant she found while scavenging…
Soft clacks of flicking ears dragged her from her pondering, her mind returning to the present. Hoppit finished his treat of the small plant, then bounced in place and scurried over to his bowl of water, perfectly happy to have eaten only that. He was so joyful with how little she provided, approaching every day of scarcity with the same enthusiasm she could never muster, as if certain that everything would be alright.
“It’s bedtime, Hoppit,” Ceele announced through a soft sigh, stoking the fire with enough branches to hopefully last the night. The ferrorabbit perked an ear in her direction, then sat on his haunches to extend the rest of himself up, his two little forepaws adorably held to his chest as he inspected the room like he always did. She smiled and made sure everything was stored away, then laid down on her bundle of blankets, covering herself with the warmest one. Hoppit bolted over to snuggle once he decided everything in the shed was up to his standards, throwing himself to the floor in a dramatic flop of comfort. Her quiet laughter subsided as they both settled in for the night, her tail completing the rabbit’s encompassing cuddle, but her eyes fell towards the obsidian orb on the table, her thoughts following suit.
It sat there, just as she left it, as benign as anything else ever placed atop the improvised furnishing. Yet there was a sense of ease and purpose as well. The old wooden trough seemed…important with its adornment firmly laid upon its surface, and she couldn’t puzzle out why. She was starting to doubt her earlier excitement.
Should she sell it? Would anyone know where it came from? Would anyone know what it was, or if it was worth anything? If she could get even a modest sum for it, she would be able to buy clothing, food, and new bedding. It would be easier to convince someone to give her work if she was dressed better and wasn’t so thin, and then she would have the income to slowly improve both of their lives. She could pay for a wandering merchant to ask a ferrorabbit rancher about the animal, even if it would take time to get back to her, or maybe she could hire a local if they needed to go near one for some reason. The cost didn’t matter to her as long as it happened.
But there was something else bothering her about the idea of selling the stone. She had travelled so far with a tug in her chest, only for the feeling of wanderlust to dissipate as soon as she held it. Was that a sign? She was never one for things like ‘fate,’ but a niggling doubt in her mind discouraged the idea of making a profit off her discovery. Even if what she could gain was so very tempting, and even if Hoppit would be happier if she did…
She tore her dampened eyes away and closed them, ignoring the burning trails running across her face. It would be another early morning, and she needed to sleep so she could take care of the garden. Decisions like this could wait. Once she had nothing else distracting her, and she had time to properly think about it, she would see how she felt about the stone.
Eventually, she dozed off with Hoppit pressed against her chest, and a longing in her heart.
Next
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A/N: Patreon and Ko-fi will be 1 chap ahead this time around, and I've set it so everything from the lowest tier up can read the newest trashfire! Anything above that is sheer show of love. Hope you enjoyed!

Last Wednesday (May 29) I (63f) woke up and couldn't bear weight on my left knee.
No injury, no previous issue with that knee, no reason I could think of. I always sleep with a wedge shaped knee pillow to relieve back pain. Who wakes up with a bum knee?
I am a bartender and server. I went to work that day, but it was hard! I limped around all day. I slept with ice packs on my knee that night, with no improvement. I worked again the next day, but it was another very long day on my feet, limping and in pain.
I was off work yesterday (Friday) and today, Saturday (well, it's after 3am), and am trying to stay off my feet. Even going to the bathroom is hard, because I'm not used to only using one leg to lift myself up and down.
I am of normal weight. I have no health issues besides arthritis in my hands and (surprisingly) right knee, and general old age back pain. I am a relatively healthy, white woman with a job that I feel keeps me fit and active.
I take Centrum Silver for women, vitamin E, vitamin D3, and use medical marijuana for my arthritis. I take no prescribed, nor unprescribed, medication. At my last check up (less than a month ago, a telehealth visit) my doctor told me to start taking Omega 3, as well as glucosamine chondroitin, but I haven't started that yet.
Today I saw that my painful knee is quite a bit larger than the other. I felt around the joint and realized there is a large, soft, not painful to the touch, lump or swelling behind that knee.
I've been hoping that this was some kind of sprain I didn't realize had happened at the time of injury, but this painless swelling kind of scares me.
Does this sound like something familiar to you? Do I need to go in to see a doctor?

On Monday (4 days before the game) during training Farrell got a tear in his right quad.
They didn't know if he was going to be able play the match. He didn't train since Monday, didn't even warm up before the saints game.
And he still performed like that despite the pain and limitations! That's the most Owen Farrell thing ever. What a legend.
From the telegraph

Mark McCall has revealed that Owen Farrell played through the pain of a tear in his right quadriceps and was only confirmed to feature in the Premiership semi-final against Northampton Saints after the warm-up.
A 22-20 loss proved to be Farrell’s farewell to Saracens as he heads to Racing 92 next season, but not before a performance in which he helped set up both of his team’s tries and brought the visitors to the verge of an upset.
Bowing out with Mako and Billy Vunipola, as well as Alex Lewington, who marked his final outing before retirement with a try, Farrell signed off in typically defiant style. Initially, with his right thigh strapped, he had only used his left foot to kick.
“There’s a quite small tear there,” said McCall of Farrell afterwards. “He wasn’t going to kick at all during the match. He might have kicked with his right foot twice but he didn’t want to. His kick to [Juan Martín] Gonzalez was off his left foot.
“He wasn’t going to be kicking for touch or goal or drop-out. We weren’t sure if he was going to play, to be honest. He hurt himself on Monday and we weren’t sure he was going to get through the warm-up. It’s quite remarkable that he was on one leg.
“We’ve got a fly-half on one leg, which is probably going to affect your kicking game, and we were able to stay in the battle. It’s incredible for him to do that in his last game for the team.”
With Alex Goode also sidelined, Alex Lozowski, who had just recovered from an ACL injury that he sustained in November against Harlequins, had been earmarked as an emergency fly-half. Elliot Daly, meanwhile, stepped up to land two conversions and two penalties.
“It’s a fresh injury,” McCall added of Farrell’s ailment. “He hurt himself on Monday; he kicked the ball and went down. He didn’t do anything until the warm-up… he didn’t even do the warm-up.
“Normally he’s first out and kicks 100 balls and [today] he was in the changing room with Mako Vunipola, who’s always last out. Elliot Daly must be the best place-kicker who doesn’t practice. Alex Lozowski was going to play 10, but we backed him [Farrell].”
Heralding the “incredible” trio of Farrell and the Vunipola brothers, McCall admitted that his squad were “very emotional” as their title defence, and their decorated careers at Saracens, ended.
“Personally speaking, I feel lucky and blessed to have come here when they were here,” McCall said.