::Moony's hooked up to like 50 machines. The stumps of her arms are wrapped up in bandages. The surgeon grafted skin over the severed parts and stitched them close she's no longer losing blood. She might be awake or unconscious, and although you'll be in a great deal of pain, you can leave without further treatment. Just watch out for those bumps...::

:: Moony groans, and groans some more as she comes round. It hurts. How it hurts. This is the kind of pain you can't push to the side and ignore. She opens her eyes and the hospital room comes into to vie. It's a struggle to sit up with stumps for hands and she has that many machines attached to her.::

(Fucking. Hate. Witches.)

:: She growls to herself as she swings her legs off of the bed and tries to get up, but the various wires tug her back.::

"Oh for fucks sake!"

:: With a snarl of frustration she wrenches herself off of the bed, detatching some of the wires, some of the machines are dragged across the room as she goes before their connections fall off. Finally! She raises her painful stubs and looks at them, her expression one of anger. She isn't going to last like this. Not at all. She mutters to herself as she walks out towards entrance, still in a lots and lots of pain.::