The pain she felt was indescribable. The exhaustion that pulled at her body, hung like a thick fog in her mind and attempted to smother her thoughts, was on a level she had never experienced in her life. She had gotten hurt before, many times while she was human and many times since her becoming a Were. None of those experiences could have prepared her for injuries of this magnitude, the effects they would have on her body even with her increased rate of healing. There was no telling the psychological scarring this could leave on her, yet for now her mind struggled to stay in the moment, wavering on the brink of consciousness in a place that left her feeling delirious. She was glad, atleast, that in these moments after the chaos had ended, the calm after the storm, that Nadya had found her way to her. Even in her current state she could still feel that warmth of the pack bond that connected them, offering her a sense of comfort. Scarlett struggled to piece the words together, force them out in a coherent explanation for the carnage she had caused in an attempt to ease any fear she had caused Nadya upon her arrival to this horrid scene. And yet perhaps it was more to ease her own conscious about what she had done, what she had had to do. She didn't really catch all of what Nadya had said in return, managing to hear 'ok' 'did what you'. Her emerald gaze could only watch as the other woman gently rummaged through her bloody and thick fur.

Frost's approach brought another wave of relief flooding through her, as her gaze searched for his form. Things were getting a lot harder: harder to breathe, harder to think, harder to see. Blood still seeped from the wound on her leg, the burning of the silver bullet lodged deeply within refusing to allow her body to heal. The wound on her chest however was beginning to heal, just at a much slower rate than what would be prefered due to the lack of energy her body had to offer. There was a distinct coldness when Nadya left, Scar quietly wishing her friend would have stayed. Her tail flinched ever so gently at his words, or what she could make of them. Like she had managed to convey, she was very tired but his arrival had helped to bring a sense of hope within her. Hope that she would be ok now that he was here to take care of her. His every move was gentle as he lifted her slowly, yet with urgency to get her back home quickly, into his arms, yet pain still shot through her forcing a yelp to escape her jaws. Despite his efforts to shift his hold of her, it was hardly pleasant being held currently, her wounds protesting with pain.

So desperately Scarlett tried to hold onto consciousness. It was getting harder and harder every second, every step he took. Her eyelids had long since shut, weighted down as she tried to keep a grasp on staying awake. But it was like water slipping through loose fingers, and she knew there was little hope for her. With what strength she could find, her last words slipped into Frost's mind, an admittance that she couldn't stay awake any longer and that she had lost the battle with exhaustion. And then everything went to black. The bloodied wolf went limp in his arms, though she was hardly holding much of her own weight to begin with. There was nothing. She couldn't hear, think, or feel anything. Her body had completely given out, and if help didn't come soon it would completely give up. In those moments, death's icy grip had never been so close to getting ahold of the young Were. Had they taken any longer to get to her, perhaps it might have stolen her.

Scarlett was out for quite awhile. Long enough for Frost to get her to the house and for the bullet to be removed. Perhaps in twisted good way, being unconscious had saved her the pain that would have been unbearable. With the bullet gone finally, her body began to slowly begin to heal the wound in her leg, the remaining source of all the blood loss. It was not a quick process, she had so little strength left to give. Her mind was resistant to sensing any outside stimulus. There was nothing and then there was the faintest of sounds that stirred it ever so slightly. A noise...no a voice? Saying something, but it was so distant it was hard to make out who it was, or what they were saying. Her face twitched ever so slightly. Was it a name? Her name? She couldn't make it out. And there was suddenly cold and then not cold? She hadn't realized she felt cold until she felt a sense of warmth wash over her. Feelings were starting to slowly come back to her, like pain and tiredness, but also warmth and touch.

Ever so slightly her eyelids cracked open, the smallest sliver of green being seen as the brightness in the room nearly blinded her and her eyes fought to roll back into her head. She blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Yet her vision did not clear and the room was still so horribly bright. She exhaled in what was close to a soft sigh, the slightest sense of frustration reaching her at her inability to properly see. But she was starting to feel and hear a little better. Something was touching her, and they were voices, two of them. They were familiar. Instinctively Scarlett attempted to move, to sit up, but she couldn't muster anything more than a slight twitch; her body was unable to find anything strength. Her brain was so foggy too, it was so hard to think. The wolf was fighting but she just couldn't break completely free. She needed more time, more rest before she could wake fully. But she was regaining it, slowly she was coming back.