Nov. 6th --
Huddled over a few toys, Gollum silently brushes his hand over one in particular. It's a donut, a circular ring for stacking up from biggest to smallest. He enjoys the night hours moreso than the lighter, so confined in his room as he is, he has no choice but to focus on what's available to him.
The small hobbit latches onto the pale yellow ring, one of the smallest ones from the set. Hissing gently, he strokes two long fingers along the outside once more, large eyes penetrating the plastic. Petting and petting this ring, he sets himself into a trance, one carefully obsessing over the object with quick looks over his shoulder.
Something's always watching. He's always there, ready to take it away. We must be careful, Precious, we cannot lose ourselves just yet.
Stupidly, Gollum freezes and tenses up at the voice in his head. He stares straight up out of his crib, large eyes already wider than usual in fear and in curiosity. He hunches up, one hand guarding the plastic ring against his chest and the other pressed against his opposite hand though ready to strike at any moment.
He waits there, head flipping in various directions to try and locate the owner of this voice. But no one is there.
Dumbfounded, Gollum falls back on his bottom against his favourite pillow, one he refused to let get washed. Once he's certain, but still vaguely suspicious, that no one is there to attack him, he looks for a safe place to store his ring so no one will find it.
Shoving all his other toys to the end of the bed, he crawls to his pillow and stores the pale yellow ring within the pillowcase. He smacks a hand atop the case in triumph at how intelligent he is.
Proud of himself and with a light, naive grin, he falls asleep.