broken toes

“Don’t make this anything it doesn’t have to be, Hoss,” my grandfather said, his voice hard. His next blow hit my right foot, and evidently Molly hadn’t specifically enchanted the shoes. Which the old man had probably been able to sense. The strike wasn’t as strong as it could have been, but it broke toes, flashes of vicious, stabbing heat that quickly vanished into the rippling chill of the Winter mantle, and I staggered to a knee.
The old man stomp-kicked me in the center of the chest, driving the wind out of my lungs with a sickly gasp and slamming my shoulder blades and the back of my skull against the dock.


Peace Talks chapter 32, Page 304-305