The second the silver parachutes explode, Prim, along with several other Rebel medics, rushed towards the children, trying their hardest to keep the wounded alive. There were just so many of them. So many dead. So many wounded. Just so many. Too many to care for, certainly, many were too badly wounded to survive.
The snow was red with the blood of innocent children, and it was almost too much for Prim to take. Almost. She was a healer, and put the needs of others before herself. Because of that, she didn't hesitate to take off her coat and cover a shivering, wounded child with. That's when she heard it. Heard her sister, calling her name. Prim turned towards her sister, her lips forming Katniss's name as she meets her sister's grey Seam eyes with her blue Merchant eyes.
And that's when it happens. That's when the rest of the silver parachutes explode. And suddenly, instead of the biting cold wind, and the shivers that come from the below freezing temperatures, there's a sensory overload. With the explosion comes an indescribable burning pain. Prim's senses were on fire-quite literally.
And then there was nothing.