Greatwater Lake phone ringing, never outgoing

rip

It takes him a few moments to recover, and a few more to notice the stranger has disappeared. Puzzled, he cocks his head to one side and studies the place he'd last seen the figure until a flash of movement catches his eye. Something... writhing? On the ground? He can't quite tell at this distance, but instinctively he knows something is wrong. He moves faster than he should, vaguely registering the new feeling of ice under his paws, the realization that he's on the lake and the stranger is in the lake. He launches into another coughing fit as he skids to a halt, stopping just shy of the water's edge.
A more clear-headed Ali might realize now that extra caution is needed here; he is sick, weak, weighed down by the heaviness in his lungs and the fever clouding his mind. Unfortunately, clear-headed Ali has been on vacation since around June 2018, and brain-fogged Ali doesn't hesitate to dive right for the flailing stranger's scruff. That he finds his mark at all is a miracle, though his grip only lasts a few moments. He'd underestimated the weight of a panicked, drowning wolf, and promptly suffers the consequences; it only takes half a breath for him to lose his balance, pulled toward the water by the stranger's momentum, and he's toppling into the frigid water alongside him before he realizes what's happening. The shock of it stills his limbs instantly, even as the icy lake wraps around him and starts to fill his lungs, and all he can think is: I would've liked a warmer death.