She probably should have just stayed in the camp, but Dawn couldn't let them starve to death. Not Damon and Caroline, and not the people they had taken in. Five years ago, she would have been against what they were doing, but now? Now she knew that the people who lived with them had it a lot easier than she and those at the camp. They lived in luxury, they had shelter, they were safe. They only had to pay sometimes by letting a vampire feed from them - something she no longer found as gross, since letting them feed from her many times in the past years.
After meeting with Jacen and taking the little trip down memory lane - which made everything in the real world seem almost dimmer because she wanted that time again; it had made her remember the months that came after, and all the things that had happened - Dawn had gone on a food raid of her own, and had found herself in the middle of a pack of Croats. She had taken them out without getting their blood on her, thank god, but she had barely made it out without a few injuries of her own: a stab wound on her side, a twisted ankle, and a black eye. The only one she was really worried about was the stab wound - she didn't have any bandages with her, so the only thing she could do as she made her way to Damon's was keep one hand pressed tightly against it, the other carrying the bag of food.
As she walked, she knew she was going slower, and losing a lot of blood - probably too much. Her eyesight was starting to grow dim, to the point where she had to keep her eyes focused on the ground, on her feet, to be sure she was still standing. When she finally reached the edge of Damon's territory, she glanced up and around, hoping he was there and that she didn't have to go any further. As she saw him, she smiled a little.
"Damon, I-" her next words were choked off as exhaustion and pain caught up with her along with the blood loss, and she stumbled, then fell to her knees, her hand falling away from her blood-soaked side.