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Dipper
Pikekit slowly limped his way up to the den entrance, careful not to put too much weight on his right hind leg; the severity of the aching pain had lessened on the way back to camp, but it still
hurt, and since he could hardly move it without making it worse he figured a visit to Fawnsqueak was warranted. So, keeping the cramped leg tucked protectively up under his belly, he ducked inside and cleared his throat to announce his presence.
“Can you help me, Fawnsqueak?” Pikekit asked bluntly, before remembering his manners with a blink.
“Uh, please. We had swimming lessons today, and then this happened to my leg, and it hasn’t really fixed itself yet so I’m not sure what to do about it.”