Smeagol Gets Worse

Smeagol's Rash Worsens 

Smeagol Shade wallows around on the ground, moaning and groaning, "Us Hurts! Us Hurts!" he whimpers into his grass bed, his broken and dirty nails digging into the broken flesh on his abdomen and chest. His huge eyes are clenched shut so tightly that not even the tears he would shed could break the thin veil of his eyelids to escape.

Smeagol Shade: Fish had been mostly forgotten. Smeagol was in an out of a state of delirium. The salves he had taken from the infirmary had NOT helped him. If anything, the rash had worsened and festered to the point of pain and not mere irritation. It seemed the sun made it worse and so he quickly learned to stay in the cool of the ruins and during the day, he covered himself with leaves and lay there shivering and shaking, unable to put thought into his next action.

Smeagol Shade reaches for one of the salve jars and dips his crooked finger into it digging for the very last bit of the precious salve. His eyes open wide and he sees Fish laying off to the side. He reaches for his friend, in a moment of cohesiveness, and dabs the very last bit of salve onto his friend. "Us gots to make a plan! Us gots to......go see the healer," he says clutching Fish tight to his chest.

"Us will do it tomorrow," he says to Fish. "Us will fix you. Us hurts so much." And there in the dark, cool of the night, he tries to sleep. "Us will go find them tomorrow."