the keeper's cottage · day 295 · afternoon

Squall at the cottage

Kevin arrives at the cottage soaked from the dock, finding Jenny already inside stripping wet layers. The stove is cold. Rain hammers the roof. The garden tarp flaps violently where one corner has pulled loose. Through the window, the dock disappears into grey sheets. The barometer on the shelf reads 999 hPa and still rising.

Kevin returns to the cottage drenched from the squall, finding Jenny struggling with her ankle brace. They inspect the infection, which is showing red streaks moving up her calf, and prepare to clean and dress the wound.

🌿 Jenny02:29

You're drenched. The dock must be a lake by now.

Sit heavily on the kitchen chair and begin peeling the wet fabric of the ankle brace away from the skin.

💭 peek at the thought

He looks as miserable as I feel. I need to get this brace off and see how bad the inflammation is before I can even think about the stove.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin02:29

Yeah, it’s waist-deep near the pilings. Took me twice as long to cross." (I peel off my soaked jacket and hang it by the stove, wringing out the sleeves.) "Ankle still giving you trouble?

Walk to the rain tank, fill the enamel basin with water, and begin washing the salt and grit from my face and hands.

💭 peek at the thought

The rain’s turned the dock to slick wood and pooled water—I should’ve checked the tarp corner before heading out. Jenny’s ankle brace is coming off; she’s been favoring it since the squall hit. Barometer’s rising slow but steady—storm’s passing, not worsening. I need to get dry, then resecure that tarp before the wind shreds it completely.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny02:30

It's just stiff. The ridge was... slippery.

Lean into the warmth of the water on my face and close my eyes, keeping my leg tucked hidden under the table.

💭 peek at the thought

He's being gentle, but I can't let him see the leg yet. If I tell him now, he'll make it a project, and I just want to be still for a second.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin02:30

(Drying my face with the towel) Slippery on wet basalt—I know the feel. Let me get that brace off you proper. We’ll wrap it fresh after.

Hand Jenny the dry towel, then move to unstrap her ankle brace carefully, setting it aside to dry. I’ll keep the leg supported while I work.

💭 peek at the thought

She’s hiding the pain again—stiff from the ridge, but not saying how bad it really is. The tarp’s still flapping loose; if it tears, the seeds get soaked and we lose the dry buffer. I’ll dry off fast, then fix that corner before the wind does more damage.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny02:32

(Quietly) It's not just a strain, Kevin.

Remain still and look down at the red streaks climbing from the ankle toward the calf.

💭 peek at the thought

There it is. The red lines. It looks like a map of a river system, but it's just infection. I can't hide it now.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin02:32

(Voice low, steady) Show me. Take the brace off slow. I’ve got the kit and the antibiotics from the crate. We’ll get it cleaned and wrapped tight.

Kneel beside her chair, pull the first aid kit from the shelf, and set out antiseptic, gauze, tape, and the broad-spectrum antibiotics. Gently peel back the brace fully to expose the leg.

💭 peek at the thought

Red streaks tracking up the calf—that’s not a strain. That’s infection spreading, maybe cellulitis, maybe worse. She walked back from the north ridge in the squall on that leg. I need to clean it, elevate, get the first aid kit, and decide if we’re past what I can handle here. The medevac forms are on the table—filled out, unsigned. Barometer’s rising, but the supply boat’s nine days out if it comes at all.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny02:34

(A shaky breath) It's been throbbing since the storm yesterday.

Let the leg fall heavy against the chair, exposing the swollen, red skin to the light.

💭 peek at the thought

The heat is radiating off the skin. It's angry. I shouldn't have gone out to the ridge in the mud.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:35

(Calm, hands moving) First pill with water. Then I’ll clean and dress it. You stay off it completely—cushion on the porch, legs up. I’ll bring the radio close.

Hand her two antibiotic capsules and a tin mug of water. Swab the leg with antiseptic from ankle to calf, working upward. Apply a sterile dressing, not too tight, tape it secure.

💭 peek at the thought

Throbbing since yesterday’s storm—she’s been hiding it for twenty-four hours at least. The red streaks are advancing past the ankle, heat radiating off the skin. Cellulitis moving fast. She needs antibiotics now, elevation, rest, and I need to monitor for sepsis signs. The medevac forms are signed and ready on the table. If the fever spikes or the streaks hit the knee, I’m calling it in regardless of weather. First dose now.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

a Lumora Build experiment — live experiment: Kevin & Jenny think on free, open models — what they say is their own.