Anasthasia stood upright, dusting off the ice crystals on her dress. Looking at what was in front of her, Freidmirth, at this point, turned no different from a statue. All of them drew closer and stared at the majestic dragon.
"Sister Ana, if we can… heal his lost limb, would he be—?" Lucy's voice trailed off, leaned hopefully than whatnot. But she had to be the devil's advocate; she knew it was too ideal and far-fetched.
"I'm sure you have seen a disabled person, Lucy. What do you think would that mean?"
She took a sharp, cold breath. "Will he be maimed forever? His limb and wing…"
"Forever isn't the case; let's say he'll undergo physical therapy…" She then looked at Fredimirth. "Which will be up to him."
Her message was clear, and all of them looked indubious. On the other hand, Lucy lowered her head as she pressed her lips, wiggling in frustration.
Silence loomed over them for a moment.
