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[_fisshes]

There’s a fire -

too small to cause any trouble, barely more than embers really.

- closer and closer all around and flowing over the sides like liquid -

It’s terribly cold in the house in the hill, what with the fire so low

- fallen so far and so fast and yet not falling, watching the fall, watching the fall as it doesn’t happen -and the snow

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[empath_wiggin]

She feels it somehow, something calling her, the pain drawing her outside, her green cloak pulled around her.

It isn't long before she can feel him, feel the pain that he's going through. She breaks into a run halfway across the grass, eventually ending up kneeling next to him. Pushing her hair out of her face, she tries to find a pulse, breath, anything. "Oh, Force. Smeagol. Wake up, please. Are you alright?"

[_fisshes]

There's no response, through physical movement or emotional change. His breath rattles, obstructed by the snow, and he begins to choke, the motion increasing - too much more, and they'll become convulsions.

His skin is much too warm.

[empath_wiggin]

"Smeagol, no. Come back. You can't. Please. It's Val. It's me, little brother. Please." She's crying a bit by now.

Swallowing, she picks him up, cuddling him against her and strides off to the bar. Someone has to be able to fix this.