Piper was a stubborn beast. It had always been both her blessing and her curse. Coming from a military family, an ethos of resilience and self-sufficiency had been drilled into her from an early age. What she could do for herself, she did; where she could get by without asking for help, she would.
This found her on the floor of the infirmary, straining up toward the desk on which the ground mealworm formula to feed the shrew pup was currently kept. She'd run into a problem; without use of her legs, she could push herself up with one arm, straining a paw over the edge of the desk to try to reach the bottle, but didn't have the reach to get it. She could hear the pup fussing in its cradle, small, squeaking mewls piercing the air as it cried for food. Piper gritted her teeth as she grabbed onto the edge of the desk instead of continuing to reach, then, holding on tight, shifted her grip from supporting herself on the floor to grabbing the desk's edge with her other paw as well. Arduously she pulled herself up, trying to get her torso above the edge of the desk where she could rest her stomach on its surface. This was far harder than it looked; while she'd passed all her basic military training and did regular exercises, pull-ups had always been her most hated exercise. She hadn't realized just how much she counted on her legs for support, nor how difficult it was to brace herself with them without feeling or movement in them.
At last she managed to grab the bottle of feed for the infant from the back of the desk, clutching it to her chest. This then left her with a new conundrum: how to get back down to the floor without risking either smashing the bottle, it rolling away, or injuring herself in the process. It was in this position that she was trapped when the door to the infirmary opened and she was caught most definitely defying doctor's orders to remain in bed.
This found her on the floor of the infirmary, straining up toward the desk on which the ground mealworm formula to feed the shrew pup was currently kept. She'd run into a problem; without use of her legs, she could push herself up with one arm, straining a paw over the edge of the desk to try to reach the bottle, but didn't have the reach to get it. She could hear the pup fussing in its cradle, small, squeaking mewls piercing the air as it cried for food. Piper gritted her teeth as she grabbed onto the edge of the desk instead of continuing to reach, then, holding on tight, shifted her grip from supporting herself on the floor to grabbing the desk's edge with her other paw as well. Arduously she pulled herself up, trying to get her torso above the edge of the desk where she could rest her stomach on its surface. This was far harder than it looked; while she'd passed all her basic military training and did regular exercises, pull-ups had always been her most hated exercise. She hadn't realized just how much she counted on her legs for support, nor how difficult it was to brace herself with them without feeling or movement in them.
At last she managed to grab the bottle of feed for the infant from the back of the desk, clutching it to her chest. This then left her with a new conundrum: how to get back down to the floor without risking either smashing the bottle, it rolling away, or injuring herself in the process. It was in this position that she was trapped when the door to the infirmary opened and she was caught most definitely defying doctor's orders to remain in bed.