Falling. Slowly.

Zimmy wasn't sure if she was a safe distance from the crash site to be blinking around. In hindsight, it had been a stupid move to get so close from the air, but in her defense, there hadn't been a ton of time to consider their options. Especially if there were survivors, like Setzer had hinted.

Nothing to do but pray, really. She felt her speed slowly increasing as her world of Mist slowly contorted back to normal. Usually she would keep tugging on the glowing fabric of reality to keep herself light as a feather, but any touch of magical manipulation could be a risk in a Mist-heavy area like this. Better to do a short hop than to wait around to pick up speed.

She exhaled sharply, and pulled. The world warped around her, and she hit the ground harder than she would have liked. "Fuck," she hissed, as electricity raced through her body. Her leg buckled, only ironclad will keeping her upright. That had [i]not[/i] been smart. Her entire left side burned with energy, and she had to limp to avoid weight to the already overstimulated leg.

[i]Walk it off, Morander.[/i] She gritted her teeth, instructor Tarold's voice coming to her mind. [i]The burning is the first sign of you getting too close to the edge. Don't even think about the Mist until that excess power's gone somewhere.[/i] Her jaw set, and Zimmy tried to continue on foot toward the pod. She limped awkwardly for a few moments until she cursed violently and scuffed her burning leg against the ground.

"This is callsign 'fucking idiot'," she sighed, resigning herself to the inevitable. "Can I get a shoulder to lean on for a minute or so? I'm a little high on Mist over here. Don't say anything, I know." She expected a full roasting from Lee later. Smarmy asshole.