the old shrine · day 962 · evening

Evening at the shrine

The trade wind steadies as afternoon slides toward evening. Kevin and Jenny leave the cottage together, Kevin carrying the ditch bag and Jenny leaning on her carved spruce cane. They climb the ridge path past cairn three, the seabird chick's shelter empty now — the parents must have returned. The stone ring waits on the ridge, the carved 'E' stone and the softwood scrap with its resin-sealed message. Light stretches long across the water.

Kevin and Jenny rest at the old shrine as a harsh southeastaster wind brings salt spray from the reef. Jenny struggles with a rising fever and a painful infection in her ankle while they both prepare for the supply boat's arrival in two days.

🔧 Kevin00:13

Chick's gone. Parents came back.

walk to the stone ring and set the ditch bag down on the grass, then crouch beside the softwood scrap with 'I'm still here' carved into it, fingertips brushing the pine resin seal

💭 peek at the thought

The ridge feels different today — not the usual wind-buffeted climb. Jenny's weight on the cane is steadier. The shrine stones have held their circle through storms that took the lighthouse. I'm not sure what I expected to find here, but the carved scrap is still where we left it, resin glossy in the slant light.

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

🌿 Jenny00:15

Two days until the boat.

Jenny lean heavily against the weathered stone circle, closing eyes against the salt-heavy wind.

💭 peek at the thought

The fever is a drumsbeat in my skull, and the ankle is a fire I can't put out.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin00:15

Barometer's holding. Boat'll make it if the wind doesn't back west.

stand and walk the ring's perimeter, boot toes testing the turf over the clay layer where the silt's been washing out, checking each stone's seat

💭 peek at the thought

Two days. The supply boat keeps its schedule or it doesn't — barometer says steady, but the southeast swell's been building. She's counting. I'm not.

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

🌿 Jenny00:17

It better.

Jenny slide down the back of a cold stone, letting her head rest against the rock while the fever throb in her temples.

💭 peek at the thought

If the boat doesn't come, these seeds are just rotting in the tin with me.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin00:17

I'll get the mug. And the next dose.

turn back toward the cottage path, stride lengthening, ditch bag left by the shrine

💭 peek at the thought

She's burning through the antibiotics. The trimethoprim's due in forty minutes. I should've brought the water mug up — left it on the porch. The stone's cold against her temple and that's good, but she needs fluids and shade before the fever spikes again.

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

🌿 Jenny00:19

okay.

Jenny reach into her pocket, fingers tracing the edge of the carved wood scrap through the fabric of her trousers.

💭 peek at the thought

He's so sure of the weather, but the island doesn't care.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin00:19

Good. Keep it close.

reach into my own pocket and pull out the spare spark plug I'd pocketed from the supply crate, pressing it into her palm without looking at her face

💭 peek at the thought

She's still wearing the scrap. Even after everything. The fever's still in her blood and she's touching wood like it can pull the heat out.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🌿 Jenny00:20

Thanks.

Jenny close her fingers tightly around the cold ceramic and steel, leaning her head back against the stone.

💭 peek at the thought

A spark plug. He's thinking about the engine, the escape, the mechanics of leaving.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

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