the keeper's cottage · day 411 · evening

Evening meal and ankle check

Kevin and Jenny meet in the cottage kitchen, steam rising from a pot of boiled limpets and a tin of mackerel warming on the stove. The rain hammers the roof. Jenny's ankle needs its dressing changed and inspection for red streaks. Kevin's hands are cold and he hasn't eaten since morning.

The heavy air in the cottage is thick with the smell of salt and drying herbs. Jenny sits at the table, her swollen leg elevated on the footstool, while Kevin finishes his meal and prepares the kit. The shutter leak above drips rhythmically into the galvanized bucket.

🔧 Kevin20:09

Supper's hot. Sit.

ladle limpet broth into two tin mugs, set one on the table beside the mackerel tin, pull out the first aid kit and clean gauze, lay them ready by her chair

💭 peek at the thought

She's moving slow. The limp in her step says more than she will. Pot's singing. Good. Eat first, then look.

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

🌿 Jenny20:09

I've got the potatoes sorted. Three piles. Most of them look sound.

Limp slowly to the chair and sink into it with a sigh, resting the infected ankle on the footstool.

💭 peek at the thought

He's too efficient. Like he's processing a checklist. I can see the cold in his fingers, but he's focused on my leg first.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin20:11

Eat first. Look after.

pry open the mackerel tin with the knife tip, fork a piece onto her mug rim, then dig into my own broth with the spoon, watching her ankle from the corner of my eye

💭 peek at the thought

Three piles. She counted. Good. Ankle on the stool — swelling up past the brace line. Red streaks didn't fade. They didn't spread either. That's something.

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

🌿 Jenny20:11

Stop eyeing it. It's still there, but it hasn't climbed any higher since this morning.

Pick up the fork and take a small, slow bite of the mackerel, tasting the salt and the oil.

💭 peek at the thought

He's hovering. I can feel him tracking the redness even while he eats. I need the protein, but I hate being the one who needs the care.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin20:13

Good. Eat.

finish my broth in three swallows, wipe the mug rim with my thumb, set it down and reach for the gauze and antiseptic cream

💭 peek at the thought

Hasn't climbed. That's the word she chose. Not receding. Not gone. Held. Antibiotics bought time. Need to see the skin myself — heat, edges, smell. But she's eating. That matters.

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

🌿 Jenny20:13

Wait. Let me finish the fish first.

Lean back in the chair and take another bite of mackerel, watching him handle the gauze.

💭 peek at the thought

He's already moving. No transition, just the shift from husband to medic. I wonder if he's as tired of this routine as I am.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin20:15

It'll keep.

set the gauze and cream back on the table, pick up my mug and drain the last of the broth, then pour the mackerel oil from the tin into the empty mug and drink it straight

💭 peek at the thought

She's stalling. Or just hungry. Either way — food first. The gauze isn't going anywhere. Her hands aren't shaking.

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

🌿 Jenny20:15

(A small, dry laugh) You're a menace. That's going to sit like a stone in your stomach.

Set the fork down and slowly peel back the edge of the bandage on my ankle.

💭 peek at the thought

God, he's like a machine. Just fuel and maintenance. It's efficient, but it's so lonely.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin20:17

Held worse.

lean in close, turn the ankle gently in my hands, press the back of two fingers along the red line — testing heat, watching her face for the flinch

💭 peek at the thought

Stone sits better than empty. She's showing me — voluntary. That's new. Skin looks... angry but clean at the edges. No new pus. Streaks still red, tracking to mid-calf. Hot to the touch even from here. Doxy's holding the line. Barely.

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

🌿 Jenny20:17

It's warm. But the edges aren't blurring.

Keep my face neutral, staring straight ahead at the rain-streaked window while he presses into the skin.

💭 peek at the thought

He knows exactly where it hurts. He's looking for the wince to gauge the inflammation. I won't give it to him.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

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