If there were no pain present in her body, she would have believed she was dead and in Thane's afterlife. The waves of the sea washed over the rocky beach, soothing her left arm in cold, washing the dirt and blood away with each return. The fingers of her right hand twitched around her pistol. She heard footsteps approach from - ahead, behind? who knows. Here senses were dulled by the fall, the explosion itself still rang in her ears.
The feeling of her cold, metal dog tags on the skin of her neck told her she would be identified if the approaching person was friend, not foe. If they turned out to be the latter she can only hope she had enough strength to fight back. But breathing itself was a chore.
She couldn't help but think that maybe - maybe it was time to greet death again.
Gasping, she shifted her body, wincing in process. Her free hand grabbed a few stones and with a grunt, she turned herself on her stomach. Blood poured down her skull, her eyes were squinted with the pressure to keep them open. Shakily, she brought her hands before her, grasping around the pistol and waited for the steps to reach her.
Her vision was blurry, her mind was foggy. She had no idea where she was and how she got there. She remembered the explosion, remembered being blasted off the Citadel to be pulled into a hole of some sort. She woke up a few minutes ago feeling as if each and every ounce of her skin was on fire. To her, it was a wonder she was even alive.
