She's slow to move, bones possibly fractured and attempting to mend to prevent further damage, skin and blood vessels torn and broken. She can feel the discoloration beginning to form, even before it shows - hands, knees, hips, face. The pain that lingers pulses like a dying heartbeat, heat rising a the blood races to save its fallen comrades. She's distracted by the task of trying to gather as much oxygen into her lungs as she can, the force of the ground against her diaphragm making it difficult to do so. She feels empty, on fire - fumes, burning off of an accelerant that shouldn't be there.

The touch of something foreign against her face snaps her back like a band - hand immediately rising to swat it away with force, thinking it may be another one of those insects that had stabbed her earlier. She scrambles, collecting herself enough to her knees and hands, scurrying backwards away from -

A man.

Eyes squint in a failed attempt at recognition. He knows her name.

She crouches, eyes feral - like a woman raised by animals. Her left cheek is already turning shades of purple, squarely on her cheek bone - the rest of her skin dusted with dry earth. By her hairline, her temples, the sweat collected there begins to curdle the dirt into paste.

"GET AWAY!" she screams, hopping backwards while remaining crouched, hands ready to transform into weapons. "GET AWAY FROM ME!"