Gobo didn't seem to change for the rest of the day, despite being checked in on multiple times. At some point he'd been given a blanket and some pillows, where he mostly slept, with intermittent periods of harsher breathing or feverish murmuring. Between periods he could keep a bit of water down, but little more than that.

It wasn't until nightfall and the house quieting well, well down that he finally roused. He remained wrapped in his blankets, feeling utterly miserable, but could sit up a little against his pillows. There he sat, looking up at the open nightsky, in which sat the silvery moon. His eyes slid down to where he could see it reflecting in the ocean, and he sighed softly, tucking his blanket up a bit tighter.