==Chapter 3, A Helping Hand==

A mother and daughter pair slowly made their way down a dirt path between tents, the mother lending her shoulder to help her one-legged daughter hobble along.

"Need a hand?" they heard a voice call out to them.

The pair looked over their shoulders and saw a pale young woman who looked to be a few years older than the daughter leaning against a tent. The pale woman wore tight black leather pants that sat low on her hips and a pair of chunky heeled boots. A few crisscrossing black leather straps adorned her chest, making no attempt to obscure her modest breasts. What caught their eye the most however was the silver prosthetic arm that extended from the woman's shoulder, currently gripping a lit cigarette between it's shiny fingers. The woman lifted the cigarette to her mouth, slowly taking a drag as she stood up and walked over to the pair.

"It's a pretty good line when talking to someone missing an arm, should really think of something better for legs though. Anyway, want me to hook you up with a prosthetic?" The woman asked.

The pair exchanged a quick look before looking back at the woman.

"Sure, but I don't know if I'll be around long enough for it to really be worth the trouble." The younger girl replied.

"No worries there, we work pretty fast, so even if you don't make it to evening you'll probably save time over hobbling everywhere."

The mother and daughter looked at each other, exchanging a quick shrug.

"Alright, sure." The girl replied.

Grinning, the woman offered her shoulder to lean on and together the group hobbled inside the tent.

Inside the tent were a few racks with various prostheses on display, as well as several overflowing crates. Off to the side a young man wearing black leather pants and a leather apron was huddled over a workbench fiddling with something. Both of his arms were the same shiny prostheses the woman had. In the center of the tent was a chair for performing operations.

The young woman led the girl to the chair and helped her sit down. She then busied herself around the tent grabbing a few varied legs.

"All right, for an above the knee amputation we have a few different options. These are just the basic types, once you pick a type we can look through the bins for one the right size and, if you want, a particular design or color."

She held up something that looked like it was just a stick.

"First we have the most basic, the peg leg. Walking is a little awkward but it's still way better than nothing. And some people like the awkward, they like the constant reminder of their situation, both to themselves and to anyone who sees them."

She next held up what looked like an over sized wooden dolls leg, with simple joints.

"This one is a little more advanced. The foot can rotate a little, which helps with balance and makes walking look and feel a little more natural. The knee has an external hinge that can be operated manually. It doesn't help with walking, but it allows you to sit normally instead of having to deal with it sticking straight out at all times."

She held up a third leg that look to be made of lighter more modern materials.

"This one has some fancy springs and stuff. With it you can walk pretty much naturally, though don't plan on any dancing or anything. You would need to manually tension it for things like sitting."

She held up the last leg she had gathered. This one looked a lot like the arm the was holding it.

"This one is some real fancy stuff. It's able to interface with the nerves in your redacted limb and operate exactly like the original did. With experience these can actually perform better than the organic limb did. This level of control is a little less necessary in a leg than an arm I suppose, but I've been quite happy with both." she said, rapping her prosthetic arm on one of her legs, producing a muffled metallic tone from beneath the leather pants.

The girl spent a few moments examining her options.

"What's all this?" she asked, gesturing to words carved or scratched into the surface of all of the prostheses.

"It's a bit of a tradition for people to add their name to the prosthetic they used. Often they'll also add what year they used it and how they died. Sometimes even a simple doodle."

She looked closely at the peg leg, examining one line that read "Julie, age 11. Bonfire Day 3, 35th BW". She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow, confused how this wooden leg had survived the bonfire.

"We ask people to remove their prosthetic if they're going to do something that might cause it damage. We want these to help as many people as they can, and for the history in them to survive." the woman said, correctly guessing the source of the confusion. "We do have some fresh peg legs we wouldn't miss if you wanted to do something risky while remaining as mobile as possible though."

The girl considered her choices for a few minutes before deciding on the second design, the simple wooden leg. The woman spent a few minutes comparing lengths until she found one that was the perfect size. She then pulled up a stool and got to work.

First she undid the bandages on the stump, then she applied a special liquid to soften the medical sealant. Next she applied local anesthesia and rearranged and stitched together some blood vessels, so that the leg wouldn't go necrotic if the girl happened to live beyond the festival. She then pulled out a drill and began the process of attaching a mounting point to the exposed bone. The girl couldn't feel the drilling directly in her leg due to the anesthesia, but she could feel the vibrations throughout her body and felt as if her brain was rattling in her skull. It didn't take very long to finish installing the mount. Finally the prosthetic was attached, and a few leather straps were tightened down to help distribute the load over what remained of the girl's thigh rather than solely the bone.

The woman helped the girl to her feet. She took a few unsteady steps before falling face first into the woman's chest. The woman chuckled, looking down at the girl nestled between her breasts. She helped her back to her feet and a few minutes later she was walking back and forth in front of the tent unassisted.

"If you happen to make it to the end make sure you don't walk off with our leg, we can always give you a cheap peg to get home on. Remember not to wear it into anything that might destroy it, and feel free to add your name if you feel like it." the woman said, standing at the entrance of the tent.

"I will! And thanks! I'm sure this will help a ton!" the girl said, waving as she and her mother left, going at a much brisker pace than they had arrived.