His screams forced her eyes wide open with worry and instinctually she felt the urge to pull away, but apparently her magic was enough to overpower even her and she found hands locked themselves in place, unwilling to move until the job was done. Her grip was only broken when a burst of magic erupted between the two, easily sending her across the room and knocking her out cold in the process. Which might have been a blessing in disguise, because she probably wouldn't have wanted to be awake to experience the follow-through of her body crashing into a stack of chairs, slumping forward onto the floor, and subsequently being buried as the stack collapsed on top of her.
She wasn't out for long though, and when she came to a few moments later, the first thing she noticed was that everything hurt. The magical blast might not have done any visible damage on its own, but the energy from the burst seemed to linger, leaving her in an overheated state. Meanwhile, the back of her body had endured the majority of the blunt force trauma, aching with pain accompanied by what was by far the worst headache she'd ever had the displeasure of experiencing. Letting out an anguished moan, she weakly pushed a chair away from in front of herself, leaving a relatively clear path to her "patient" and revealing a strange, dark teal liquid slowly trickling down her forehead from somewhere beneath her hair.
"Gods... damn it... told you to... sit still... fuck's sake."
Her voice was strained and dull, a stark contrast to the chipper tones it had taken previously. A reasonable person might have figured that Tighearnán "not sitting still" certainly wasn't the root cause of the problem, but Katarina was in no state to be thinking clearly. It was already taking nearly all of her concentration and energy simply to stay conscious, pushing through her exhaustion and pain as she began to sluggishly drag herself towards the blurred figure across the room.