Honeyed Pasture loser

The scent of another draws her away from @Sarthorn, and as she tracks the fresh trail she notes the faint stink of rot mingled with it. Her brother will not be pleased, she knows, but Nesini has always had a bleeding heart. Where she can help, she will, and here she knows she would be of more use than most. So she follows the scent until her gaze lands on the pale form curled up in the snow.
You'll freeze to death like that before the infection takes you, She says as she approaches, head lowering slightly as she draws near. She halts and sniffs a few times in his direction, nose wrinkling. Smells pretty nasty. I can help.