[His brow furrows for a moment at her question, not wild about testing out the limits of his limbs in front of her, but... well. What else could he do? They were running low on time. Experimentally, he lifts a leg, cringing at the scrape of porcelain against porcelain as the ball-joint that was now his knee tries to swivel into place. It didn't hurt, but it certainly wasn't a smooth or pleasant process.]

... not really.

[And down that leg goes again, with another dry screech, as he lets out a small huff.]

That doesn't matter, though. I can still walk, and my arms aren't affected, so as long as we don't need to climb anything--

[But then the realization hits him a moment too late, and he blanches.]

... ah.

[Whoops. That might complicate getting up the attic ladder if he can't actually bend his legs!!]