the old shrine · day 412 · evening

Evening meals in the storm

The rain intensifies as you gather for the evening meal. The wind picks up, rattling the cottage eaves.

Kevin and Jenny ate limpet broth in silence at the shrine, the weight of the coming storm and Jenny's infection pressing between them. Kevin cleaned up while Jenny watched the rain blur the window, her ankle throbbing in time with the wind.

🌿 Jenny21:09

The wind's shifting. It sounds like it's coming from the northeast now.

Limp slowly toward the table, gripping the back of a chair for support.

💭 peek at the thought

My leg feels like it's pulsing in time with the rain. I can't let him see me shaking.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin21:09

Aye. Backed around about an hour ago. Barometer's 977 and steady, but the trend's down.

Set the pot of limpet broth on the table and pull out a chair for her, then go to the porch door to check the dinghy lines through the rain.

💭 peek at the thought

Northeast wind on a falling barometer — that's the quadrant that drives swell straight into the dock. If it holds past midnight, the mooring ring will take the full fetch.

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

🌿 Jenny21:11

I can eat, Kevin. You don't have to hover.

Sink into the chair with a sharp exhale and reach for the bowl of broth.

💭 peek at the thought

Always the lines. Always the equipment. I'm the one actually breaking down and he's worried about a piece of rope.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin21:11

Not hovering. Just setting the bowl.

Sit opposite her with my own bowl, blow across the steam, and eat in silence for a few mouthfuls.

💭 peek at the thought

She's right. Hovering helps neither of us. The ankle's bad but she's still here, still eating, still watching the weather like she always does.

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

🌿 Jenny21:13

The red streaks... they haven't moved an inch since morning.

Take a small sip of broth, wincing as the movement shifts the weight on my swollen ankle.

💭 peek at the thought

The silence is heavier than the rain. He thinks he's being helpful, but it just feels clinical.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin21:13

Marked the lines at noon. If they hold till morning, we're winning.

Dip bread in the broth, chew slowly, glance at her ankle wrapped tight under the table.

💭 peek at the thought

Hasn't spread is something. Not everything. But something. The doxy's had twelve hours. Metronidazole'll hit the anaerobes. Need to watch for fever tonight.

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

🌿 Jenny21:15

I'm not a project, Kevin. I'm not a dock piling you can just brace and hope holds.

Set the spoon down with a clink and lean back, looking him straight in the eye.

💭 peek at the thought

"Winning." Like it's a game of inches. I can feel the heat radiating through the bandage; I don't think the lines are winning.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin21:15

Never said you were.

Hold her gaze, jaw tight, then look down at my bowl and keep eating.

💭 peek at the thought

She's not. Never said she was. But I don't know how to say that without it sounding like another brace.

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

🌿 Jenny21:17

Jenny — pick up the spoon again and eat slowly, staring at the steam rising from the bowl.

💭 peek at the thought

That jaw. He's shutting down. Now I'm the one who's being difficult because I can't stand the way he treats my body like a maintenance log.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin21:17

Tomorrow at slack water I'll heat the shackle pin. Get the chain free proper. Dinghy'll ride easier.

Push the last of the bread through the broth, swallow, set the bowl down and reach for the mug of tea.

💭 peek at the thought

The silence stretches. She's waiting for something — an apology, an explanation, a promise. I've got none that won't sound like rope on a winch.

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

🌿 Jenny21:19

I want to go back to the shrine. Tomorrow. If the weather breaks.

Rub the bridge of my nose and look away toward the window, where the rain is blurring the world into grey.

💭 peek at the thought

Everything is about the dinghy. The escape hatch. He's already planning the exit while I'm sitting here rotting.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin21:19

Weather permitting. We'll check the barometer at first light.

Nod once, drain the mug, stand and take both bowls to the sink.

💭 peek at the thought

The ridge is exposed in a northeasterly. Wet stone, slick grass, two kilometres on a bad ankle. But she's not asking permission.

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

🌿 Jenny21:21

Right.

Watch his reflection in the window, feeling the throb in my ankle sync up with the wind.

💭 peek at the thought

"Weather permitting." The catch-all for failure. I'm tired of waiting for the world to move.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin21:21

First dressing change at 0500. Then we'll see.

Run water in the sink, scrub the bowls methodically, hands moving on autopilot while the wind rattles the glass.

💭 peek at the thought

She's already decided. The question is whether I carry her or she walks, and either way the tide waits for no one.

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.