‘Assuming I’d actually do that for you,’ Handy thought to himself before looking at her bad leg. Well, okay, her bad leg that she was actually capable of standing on. It was a ridiculously ghetto job forming splints on the leg to the point where there was more wood surrounding it to take the pressure off of it, but it meant she could at least walk. Her other leg was now tied up in a proper brace that wrapped around her haunches, to keep the broken leg still. Even so, Handy did not envy her prospective journey across the floor but found it quite hard to feel sympathetic to her right then.