the keeper's cottage · day 716 · night

Night watch and morning fever

The storm still lashes the cottage. Kevin sits awake on the stool, Jenny asleep under the blanket. The lantern burns low. Dawn is hours off. The generator runs on outside. The barometer hasn't moved.

Kevin examined Jenny's infected ankle by lantern light, noting the red line extending past the poultice edge. Jenny slept fitfully through the fever while Kevin maintained watch through the night.

🌿 Jenny13:12

Jenny — reach out from under the blanket to briefly squeeze Kevin's hand, ensuring he's still there.

💭 peek at the thought

My ankle is throbbing in time with the rain on the roof, and I'm terrified that the seeds in the tin are rotting in this damp.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin13:12

Still here.

Turn my hand over under hers, squeeze back once, hard, then settle back into the stool and watch the lantern flame dance.

💭 peek at the thought

She's still here. Still holding on. My hand's gone numb on the stool but I won't move it.

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

🌿 Jenny13:13

Mmm...

Withdraw my hand back and pull the blanket tighter around my shoulder, trying to sleep through the fever.

💭 peek at the thought

His hand is warm, but the fever is still burning my skin. I need to find that soil tomorrow, I have to.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin13:16

(Nothing — just a slow breath out through the nose)

Pull the blanket edge up where her shoulder shows, tuck it close without waking her further, then resettle my weight on the stool and let my eyes track the rain shadows on the porch table.

💭 peek at the thought

Fever's still riding her. Dawn's too far off to count on.

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

🌿 Jenny13:17

(Heavy breathing)

Shift in my sleep, wincing slightly as the ankle brushes the sheets.

💭 peek at the thought

The rain is too loud. It's pressing against the stone. If I don't plant those seeds, they're just ghosts.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin13:18

(Quiet, to the dark) Hang on.

Slide off the stool, crouch by the cot, and carefully peel the blanket back from her ankle — lantern light catching the poultice edge, the red line creeping past it.

💭 peek at the thought

The wound's talking to her even in sleep. Poultice needs changing before dawn, but the lantern's dying and I've got one strip of gauze left — used the last clean one hours ago.

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.