*shakily licks his cold lips, because drenched and pale and waxy as he is, there is no relief for the desert of his mouth*
*tries to clutch at you but can't move much for the blankets (it is certainly better that way) and cannot quite seem to get warm*
H- hurts. Hurts. *the flash of a wan smile tugging at the corner of his lips, despite everything, as it occurs to him how he must look (and he truly isn't sure where he is anymore)* ...play that one? 'gain? *his brow furrowing, a tear running from one bloodshot eye and rapidly down over his temple* Glrfinnel. Swllow. Harp.
*can't continue because his lungs are still straining just to force air in and out, and again, it's just as well, because he can't tell if the pain started an hour or a year or an age ago*