It was a brief, perversely blissful moment. It separated the before from the after, when the sound began the ring in her ears again and her eyes tried once, then twice, before successfully opening. Elizaveta stared at the blur of colour barely visible past what she knew to be blood in her eyes while her mind tried to reconcile what her senses were telling her with what she could recall. It was Saturday, if she remembered correctly, which, for her, meant the Preternaturals for Peace march. Liliya would be attending--Had attended, even. She remembered that much. Miss Via Cohen had been there also, she thought. Had been? The past tense was being assigned to everything and yet she could not recall the march finishing. Not even as it occurred to her that the bridge sounded like some kind of warzone. A bomb? The thought somehow felt just as absurd as it was plausible. Were it not for the fact the air was thick with the scent of blood that was not her own, she might not have believed it. Closing her eyes against the red film obscuring her vision, she listened to the people around her, wincing slightly as her expression tried to smooth. That had been painful. Surprisingly so, actually. And now that she was truly noticing it, an awful lot of her was in pain. Flexing her fingers, Elizaveta cursed silently in Russian as she tried to push herself to her feet. Her eyes opened only to see why her footing was noticeably uneven; she was missing a shoe.
Frankly, she did not have the time to concern herself with the shrapnel that had embedded itself down the full length of her body, nor any other more minor injuries that contributed to the destruction of her dress and the shortening of her temper. She hadn't even noticed most of it, bothering only to wipe her eyes clear so she could look for Liliya. Whatever in the name of God had just happened, the house came first, and Elizaveta was not so stupid as to think that the younger vampire could just be replaced. As far as she was aware she was in no danger of bleeding out herself, so she had time enough to search - which would be much easier if well-meaning individuals did not try to help her. Waving off someone brandishing a tiny First Aid kit that would do no one here any good at all, she turned on her one heel and made her way in the general direction she thought she had heard Liliya's voice.
And there she was, with a girl that it was likely neither of them knew. "Lil--" What is that? Tonguing the inside of her cheek momentarily, Elizaveta's hand rose to touch where she had a shard of metal protruding from it before her eyebrows raised in horror at the sight of Liliya's leg. Oh, goodness. "I fear we were in the wrong place, darling." Which was, she had to concede, rather stating the obvious, but she had nothing else to say without sounding as though she was fussing. "How do you feel? I must warn you that if you pass out I will be fetching Eric." Yes, that was a threat at the expense of another Cyri, but if it kept her from slipping into unconsciousness and not waking up then Elizaveta thought it worth it. Part of her wanted to reassure Liliya that it would grow back, but she remained unsure as to whether that would be insulting her intelligence - and then there was the other girl right there. "What exactly will the paramedics be doing to help? If you don't mind me asking." Clearly the girl had not noticed her patient was dead, but such were the Cyri. Then again, there was every chance she had simply misheard.