The bottle of Ogden's slipped out of his hand, it's owner finally unconscious. What had only been opened a few hours ago, the economy sized bottle of whiskey was now near empty, the smallest remnants sloshing around upon impact. Typically a light sleeper, the man in the chair didn't so much as twitch at the bang of glass on stone. He had much larger things on his mind and far heavier strains on his heart. The surrounding room contained a dying fire and a half-filled wall of bookcases, the dust recently disturbed. Cold, unconscious, and afraid, she had left him.