Cassandra wasn't at all too sure what was happening. Everything, after having seemed to go so slow after the attack, seemed to be going so fast now. Split from her friends, she didn't know what was happening, to them or to her. It seemed that there wasn't quite as much pain, but rather a burning...or stinging sensation, in her wounds. That wasn't normal, was it? 

Her head was spinning, as she imagined her mauled arm having to be chopped off because it was completely destroyed. She gave a sob, and received sympathetic looks from the nurses, which just made everything worse. Panicking, she couldn't make her eyes look at her arm, but she flinched at a pinch on her uninjured arm, and then the cool spread of whatever medication they were putting in her, as a doctor leaned over her arm, placed on a metal table, and asked her if she was still in pain. 

She shook her head and wished she hadn't as it spun, making her feel sick. The doctor reassured her that everything was okay, as he began to carefully stitch her arm back together. Another son as she thought on the scars that would be there. Just another set to add to the scar under her eye. How would anyone like her, scarred as she was?

A nurse gentle dabbed at the claw marks on her chest, wincing in sympathy at the large scratches, but it didn't seem that they needed stitching, as the doctor finished what he was doing to her arm. They bandaged it and her chest, before proceeding to examine her for an other injuries, but it didn't seem like there was anymore. 

She wondered if she should ask about the burning, the feel of her skin actively joining together, but something made her stay quite about it, instead she asked about her friends, hoping that they were all alive. She mentioned the fact that Gloria had said she'd be in the camp grounds, and asked desperately if they had been the only ones attacked, and then asked if she could see her friends. 

She was disappointed when told she couldn't, that she was pale and needed to let the intravenous medications and fluids go through, to prevent her losing consciousness or becoming dizzy when she stood. She couldn't argue, feeling sick to her stomach. She asked if she could call her aunt, and was relieved when she was given the okay for that. She spent the next little while telling her aunt that she was okay, that she'd been hurt, but that she was okay and had been treated. Then asked if she could come and get her, that she didn't want to spend the night in the hospital, and that she just wanted to be home.