It's a shock and a blow but this is familiar. If for a moment her mind's eye sees red sands beneath the vaporizing snow it makes no different. Threat's ended. Check for damage. Move.

"Nike!" She's still calling too loud, but she's realized none of them can hear her. She sees Nike kneeling in the mud, though she can't get a proper look at the angel through her busted helm. Reaching up, she yanks it off - there's a grind and dull snap and sharp pain but it's irrelevant. She dumps the helmet aside and strides a couple of steps closer, throws herself to her knees in front of her team-mate. The sight and smell of blackened feathers sticks in her mind, vivid because it's strange.

Her hands close on Nike's shoulders, steadying her. Conscious. Good. Always lose them otherwise. She peers at the angel, trying to check if Nike can focus on her before the Titan pats out a couple of burning spots on her robes. No blood - check for concussion, head trauma- and Ghost is there, scanning before she can try to flag him over. He always has her back.