Vin

[scrapdraught]

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[allomantic]

[immediately taking a step back as well, concerned.]

I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.

[scrapdraught]

No — you...

[She shakes her head.]

You were on fire. I thought I'd...

[But it's not real, is it? Vin is fine. They're fine.

Camille swallows. Slowly, wordlessly, she makes to heft herself free, on her own and sorely missing the lost hand.]

[allomantic]

Oh, well... It must have been some kind of illusion. I'm completely fine.

[looking at her with concern]

...Do you want to talk about what happened?