"I dropped a toaster in the bathtub," said Arla wryly, dragging her hand along her thigh in order to spread out her fingers---and they managed to relax enough to settle back to normal. "Tzzt." It was a lie, obviously. Actually, it was meant to be a joke, but under the circumstances it probably wasn't all that funny.
She finished rubbing some of the excess salve into her skin----on her skin, it got all slippery, but it was hard for things to dissolve into it. "No, I... but really, I got zapped underwater and... held down and... it was bad, but I don't actually remember it. You shoulda seen me before." She laughed helplessly. "This hand thing is nothing. I've come a long way."
Clearing her throat, she glanced back up at David. "I tried tracking down the people who killed the Morlocks. My Morlocks. The same guy who beat me, shot me, and left me for dead was the one who did this." She smiled sadly. "Oops."
She was affected by it, sure, but by now she was all right talking about it. A fellow Morlock had the right to know. "Don't think I told you about that just so you'd tell me about your wife. That'd be vindictive."