[For a moment, he plans to say something about Bucky's hand. Being burned should have caused a reaction even in the most stoic man, but he doesn't react. Something's not right there.
But his question drives everything else out of Ivar's head. He's the first one here to actually ask. And for a moment, Ivar is filled with anger, having heard that question so many times in his life. But there's no malice he hears, not in the same mocking way the Vikings of his home would ask. Rather than telling him to shut up and mind his own business, Ivar gives a long sigh, and explains it in frank terms.]
Something's wrong with the bones. They were twisted from the moment I was born. I've never been able to put any weight on them, so the muscles didn't develop properly.
[Had he been born in the twentieth century, it would have been clear to any doctor that he had brittle bone syndrome. One of his roommates had already been able to tell, though he'd yet to inform Ivar.]
no subject
But his question drives everything else out of Ivar's head. He's the first one here to actually ask. And for a moment, Ivar is filled with anger, having heard that question so many times in his life. But there's no malice he hears, not in the same mocking way the Vikings of his home would ask. Rather than telling him to shut up and mind his own business, Ivar gives a long sigh, and explains it in frank terms.]
Something's wrong with the bones. They were twisted from the moment I was born. I've never been able to put any weight on them, so the muscles didn't develop properly.
[Had he been born in the twentieth century, it would have been clear to any doctor that he had brittle bone syndrome. One of his roommates had already been able to tell, though he'd yet to inform Ivar.]