Pain should spread. ["Should" may be an odd word. But Lexa always likes to ... be somewhat theatrical when she speaks. She likes holding someone's attention. Her oratory skills are pretty decent in that way, if a bit overly blunt (but her people demand that of her).]

Mine doesn't. I can't figure out why, or whether it will fade. [She reaches out toward her arm, and though it's covered by the suit, she still digs her fingers into it. What ache should be there is only distantly present.]

Pain is how we can keep track of whether we can still fight. It may prove to be a burden if it doesn't return to me soon.