static arm

“Seems about right,” River Shoulders rumbled. He had one hand wrapped around my forearm, my entire freaking forearm, gently. The other was braced against my chest—my entire chest. “Okay, on three. One,” he said, and he put my arm back into its socket.
There was an explosion of static and then a bunch of the white noise cleared away. River Shoulders released me carefully and arched an eyebrow. I tried my shoulder. It functioned much more smoothly, and I nodded my thanks at him.

Battle Ground Chapter 10, Page 97