The laughter surprises her only slightly, knowing it likely should not have been done judging by the way it is followed by a groan from Fareeha. Still, she takes her time, careful in her administration of observing such an injury and its gradual - but quick, in-field - recovery. Wounds rip through flesh and bone and bullets take no prisoners. She’s been on both ends; neither are pleasant.
“They tend to do that,” She sighs then, keeping track of the time since the first shot had been applied, suggesting another was necessary to finish the job. She lifts the rifle, doesn’t use the scope at such close range, and fires again, sounding off the use of the technology once more. “But this shouldn’t take much longer.”
In truth she knows they need to move, to return to the fray, but such a moment like this with her daughter, in her mind, should not be wasted, circumstances be damned.
Another groan followed the first as the second shot was fired, head pressed firmly back to the ground once again as pain flared up then dissipated shortly there afterwards. Horus, was there not a more merciful way to heal her?
Only when the second dose of pain relief took effect did Fareeha ever so slowly push herself to sit; Body protesting and the warped plates digging uncomfortably into her skin. “Did-... Ah... Thank... you.” The words were mumbled, some embarrassment retained. She had been shot from the sky and whilst she wasn’t immensely grateful to her mother, she did wish to impress her; Prove that she could do this.
And instead, she was laying on the floor with armour tainted red.
