What the hell else is there to do except grit his teeth and bear it?
What the hell else, that is, except be caught off guard by how much less pain there is in the act of being liften than he's expecting--not no pain, obviously, not by any measure, but less, which is an absolutely wild moment on par with the shock of the actual break and pain's initial onset.
The only clue to any of that is the white-knuckle, circulation-threatning grip of his hand around Emet's arm.
"I don't get it," he mutters--though for Dirk, a mutter is basically a voiced whisper, and in this case it's somewhat closer to a grumble or even a growl. "I don't break bones. Not like that. I mean, I caught some air but only barely. If I've been losing bone density somehow.... I mean, it's not my fucking diet."
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What the hell else, that is, except be caught off guard by how much less pain there is in the act of being liften than he's expecting--not no pain, obviously, not by any measure, but less, which is an absolutely wild moment on par with the shock of the actual break and pain's initial onset.
The only clue to any of that is the white-knuckle, circulation-threatning grip of his hand around Emet's arm.
"I don't get it," he mutters--though for Dirk, a mutter is basically a voiced whisper, and in this case it's somewhat closer to a grumble or even a growl. "I don't break bones. Not like that. I mean, I caught some air but only barely. If I've been losing bone density somehow.... I mean, it's not my fucking diet."