Bitterroot looked idly at her dislocated shoulder. It felt a bit weak and, out of place, looked incredibly ugly. But Bitterroot had a touch of experience with this sort of thing; she’d just never been lucky enough to not feel pain doing it.  She planted her bad leg on the ground and threw all her weight on it. With a little pop, the joint slid back into place. She rolled it. No problems, at least as far as she could tell. Maybe if she could actually feel pain, she’d feel if something was wrong wi-