[color=fff79a][b]Hazel Baker[/b][/color]

The battle was over, at least for them at that moment.

Hazel was drenched in that white liquid, which seemed to be the doll's blood. She could feel her right arm aching now, the adrenaline from the battle draining away and leaving her more aware of her own condition. The numerous wounds on her arm from the sparkling dust the eye monster had conjured up was still bleeding, albeit less than before. It was bleeding less, but moving it even slightly sent sparks of pain running through that arm, not to mention the white blood covering her arm right now. She wasn't a doctor nor had knowledge of medical science, but she did know that strange things entering her body was bad.

She took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, trying to control her breathing. There was a slight feeling of panic, one that would and could erupt into a full blown frenzy if left unchecked, caused by the haze being lifted and her realization that she had not brought along any of her medicine. Hazel lifted her shaking hands to her ears to silence the phantoms of her past, a futile gesture, but one that still brought her comfort. Once again, she started filling up her thoughts with mindless words and images, a simple way of keeping her mind off her stigma and thus lessen the building stress.

Her mind free of the haze, she looked over the battlefield, gazing over the vaguely familiar faces. The only ones' she was even slightly familiar with was Lawrence and Emma, both assigned to the same target as her. Lawrence, of course, was the one Hazel was tasked to, and thus her handler and her priority one in safety. Emma was that nice person she had went out with to get clothes, though she had bought none herself. From what she could see of the other teams, they seemed to be faring worse than her team, with the blinded and panicked eye monster rampaging towards their direction. There were lifeless bodies on the other teams' side, of that she was sure, though it evoked no real feeling from her. It was simply piles of dead meat who were unfortunate enough to meet their ends here. 

Sidling slightly closer to Lawrence, still with her hands over her ears, she kept a sharp eye out for anything that might barrel over to them. She was still supposed to protect him, for if she failed, she'd be punished regardless of her conditions or excuses. That at least, she knew.