[center] Clara had not focused on anything other than the man before her and the need to pull out those rods as quick as she could. She hadn’t paid attention to her own pain; had hardly noticed her own burning flesh or the horrible sensation shooting through her hands as she gripped each rod while her other hand braced his chest to pull it out. She was silent, unsure of her own motives; unsure of what would even meet her once she was complete. Would it be the regular Kieran that she’d been previously hell-bent on killing - or would it be the new, crazed Kieran that no one could stomach being around? For all she knew, this could have very well been a trap and yet there she was, blindly trying to rid him of the rods in his chest and the pain and hinderance that it had caused. 

Why she didn’t even think twice was beyond her -- she had no idea what had suddenly changed; what motivated her to want to even help him. She wanted to pawn it off on instincts - the need to save her sire at all costs- but it did seem like something changed. She just didn’t know how or why that was. 

Clara didn’t even notice when Ryanair had suddenly been by her side to assist. Even Kieran’s cry had startled her from her own thoughts and had brought her own pain into light. She nearly hissed at the sensation shooting through her own hands and she could hardly stomach the smell of her own burning flesh now coupled with Ryanair’s and Kieran’s, but still she pushed through until she could pull at the very last one. 

It was almost as if her stomach had been in her throat as she pulled it out and she sat back almost in her own confusion about what she was doing and why she even cared- but it wasn’t the time to think about it. The silver would hinder his healing, even as it was now removed. Who knew how long he’d been there - how long he’d been stuck like that?

She’d looked around the room suddenly to find any semblance of fabric that hadn’t been drenched in blood. She’d been able to find at least some sheets and she scrambled to her feet to grab at them before returning back to Kieran, immediately working to press them against his chest to stop the blood from oozing out. 

Nothing around her would piece things together -- they needed answers, and she couldn’t fathom how any of this had happened. Their bond wasn’t strong at all, but hell - she should have known something was wrong. Even Ryanair had been clueless to Kieran’s injuries - lying behind closed door. Nearly half of the group had been slaughtered overnight - and no one had heard a single thing. How the hell was it possible? 

She’d rather dwell on those questions than wonder just why she was so frantic in making sure Kieran was alright.

Her hands were burning even as she held the fabric to him, but she disregarded the pain as she tried to fully assess what happened and if he would be alright -- if he was even the [i]normal[/i] Kieran even in that moment. 

“What the hell happened last night? None of this fucking makes sense...” [/center][@Arista]