Rehabilitation
9th Spring, 515AV
9th Spring, 515AV
Pain was something that one did not simply get over, as Shakune had first thought. For almost twenty days, she had been nearly crippled thanks to the scar down her left leg. The wound itself had not been the major problem: it was the subsequent infection that had festered in her flesh that had knocked her out for the count.
But now she slowly recovering. Five days ago, she completed her first courier job since the turn of the new year. Though it had been painful and embarrassing - she'd had to hire a bodyguard for her own safety - Shakune had completed the job all the same. The relief of being out of her house and maintaining a normal life had encouraged the courier to begin rebuilding herself.
And that meant rehabilitation.
"This is gun'a hurt." She muttered to her feet, and more specifically to the small terrier dog that squirmed his way between her legs, "just don't laugh at me if I cry, right?" He stared up at her with adoring dark eyes and barked out his reply.
With a nod, Shakune began to walk. Her left leg was stiff, and she a chime or so she winced and gasped at the discomfort. But this was a sign of recovery, right? What is it that body builders and henchmen said? No pain, no gain. Well, if that was the case, after this Shakune was due a whole load of gains.
Her steps were uneven, like a drunkard, but overtime she became more confident and quick. And then Shakune pushed herself further, into a slow jog. In reality, she had walked quicker in the past compared to her jogging speed now, but speed was not the key. She needed to build up her muscles and confidence.
It was agony. Each heavy step pushed down on Shakune's leg, creating the illusion that her wound was reopening. She stopped to check it three times, and though she was soon slick was sweat, there was no blood.
Just man up, Shakune. Deal with it.
Clenching her jaw, she restarted, arms swinging to maintain her balance. Squidgle bounced up and down at her side, yapping excitedly. Though he had no clue what exactly was happening - why did his mistress keep stopping and whimpering? - the little dog was having the best time ever.
Step, step, step, step.
She was breathing heavier now, her hairline damp with sweat. Shakune paused to wipe her brow, nostrils wide and filling with cool air. The pain was still throbbing, but either Shakune was growing use to the agony or it was dulling slightly. The courier started again, increasing her speed just a fraction. Keep yourself taut, she told herself, tensing her abdominal muscles to ensure her spine was straight.
But now she slowly recovering. Five days ago, she completed her first courier job since the turn of the new year. Though it had been painful and embarrassing - she'd had to hire a bodyguard for her own safety - Shakune had completed the job all the same. The relief of being out of her house and maintaining a normal life had encouraged the courier to begin rebuilding herself.
And that meant rehabilitation.
"This is gun'a hurt." She muttered to her feet, and more specifically to the small terrier dog that squirmed his way between her legs, "just don't laugh at me if I cry, right?" He stared up at her with adoring dark eyes and barked out his reply.
With a nod, Shakune began to walk. Her left leg was stiff, and she a chime or so she winced and gasped at the discomfort. But this was a sign of recovery, right? What is it that body builders and henchmen said? No pain, no gain. Well, if that was the case, after this Shakune was due a whole load of gains.
Her steps were uneven, like a drunkard, but overtime she became more confident and quick. And then Shakune pushed herself further, into a slow jog. In reality, she had walked quicker in the past compared to her jogging speed now, but speed was not the key. She needed to build up her muscles and confidence.
It was agony. Each heavy step pushed down on Shakune's leg, creating the illusion that her wound was reopening. She stopped to check it three times, and though she was soon slick was sweat, there was no blood.
Just man up, Shakune. Deal with it.
Clenching her jaw, she restarted, arms swinging to maintain her balance. Squidgle bounced up and down at her side, yapping excitedly. Though he had no clue what exactly was happening - why did his mistress keep stopping and whimpering? - the little dog was having the best time ever.
Step, step, step, step.
She was breathing heavier now, her hairline damp with sweat. Shakune paused to wipe her brow, nostrils wide and filling with cool air. The pain was still throbbing, but either Shakune was growing use to the agony or it was dulling slightly. The courier started again, increasing her speed just a fraction. Keep yourself taut, she told herself, tensing her abdominal muscles to ensure her spine was straight.