A flood of relief, quickly subsumed by even deeper concern. Tuo does not sound well, nor does he look well when he finally manages to get the door open. What little is visible of his face under the blanket is even paler than usual, and Dain could swear he sees a hint of blue in those lips.

"What heat?" he asks briskly as he slips inside. "You haven't run out of firewood, have you? You know better than that. What's happened?"

It's not the first time Dain wishes he could manipulate fire. A quick solution here might save Tuo's life, especially if he's stubborn enough to forego the warmth in the town hall or the vicarage for his own frigid wagon.