the keeper's cottage · day 916 · midday

A Quiet Stretch

Back at the cottage.

The humidity sits heavy over the cottage as the clouds thicken. Kevin debrides Jenny's inflamed ankle and applies a cool sea beet and mint poultice to the weeping puncture sites. Jenny swallows the two doxycycline tablets with the remaining warm broth, noting the metallic taste of the medicine as they both wait for the supply boat in eight days.

🔧 Kevin00:36

Ankle first. Crate waits for low tide.

Walk to the porch where Jenny sits, set down the tin mug of warm broth and the blister pack with the last two doxycycline tablets, then kneel to unwrap the gauze from her ankle.

💭 peek at the thought

The tide's still high. Crate's wet, heavy, and won't open clean until the water drops. Jenny's ankle needs the last of the doxycycline and a fresh poultice before she tries to stand on it again. I'll check the Yanmar vibration at load after — but only if the supply boat's still on for tomorrow. Barometer's holding steady at 1006. That's something.

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

🌿 Jenny00:37

The humidity is coming in with the clouds. It feels heavy.

Lean back against the stone wall, watching his hands as he removes the blood-stained bandage.

💭 peek at the thought

He's always so methodical with the schedule, like the infection doesn't care about the tide.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin00:38

Humidity's been heavy three days. Barometer's not dropping fast enough for a blow, but it's not rising either. Stuck.

Peel the gauze back slow, letting the stuck bits release with a dab of warm broth from the mug, exposing the wound — angry red, weeping, the skin shiny tight around the puncture sites.

💭 peek at the thought

Infection's tracking up the calf. Red streaks past the ankle now. She's not saying how bad it hurts. She never does. The poultice drew some heat yesterday but the doxycycline's the only thing holding the line. Two tablets left. Then the metronidazole cache. Then nothing.

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

🌿 Jenny00:39

Thank you for the broth. And the tablets.

Press down on my thigh to stop the pulse hammering in my temple.

💭 peek at the thought

The wound is spreading faster than it should, and I can't let him see how badly I'm afraid.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🔧 Kevin00:40

Take them with the broth. All of it.

Press the two doxycycline tablets into her palm, then tip the mug so she can swallow them down with the last of the hot liquid, watching her throat work.

💭 peek at the thought

Her hand's warm. Steady. She's the one burning up and she's grounding me. Always backwards. The pulse in my temple's been there since the radio crackled yesterday — Tom's frequency, static, nothing. Nine hundred sixteen days. The crate. The supply boat. Her ankle. All of it waiting.

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

🌿 Jenny00:41

It tastes like metal.

Swallow hard, letting the tablet dissolve slowly as Kevin wipes sweat from my brow with the corner of the gauze.

💭 peek at the thought

I can't let him see the relief that floods through me when the pills hit my tongue, bitter and hopeful.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🔧 Kevin00:42

Metal's the drug working. Means it's in the blood.

Set the empty mug aside, pick up the fresh sea beet and mint poultice — cool, damp, smelling of crushed leaf and honey — and spread it thick over the inflamed wound, then wrap it clean with the last roll of sterile gauze, taping the edges d

💭 peek at the thought

Metal taste's the doxy. Or the fever. Could be both. Her skin's hot against the back of my hand. The red streaks haven't faded. Need the metronidazole next if this doesn't break by morning. Fourteen tablets in the oilcloth. Buried cache. Hope I remember which stone.

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

🌿 Jenny00:43

It feels cold.

Close my eyes, focusing on the weight of the bandage as he secures it tight.

💭 peek at the thought

The poultice is a cold shock against the heat of the infection, but I can still feel the throb underneath.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin00:44

Keep it on four hours. Then fresh.

Tape the final edge of gauze down, press my palm flat over the wrapped ankle for a moment — feeling the heat through the bandage, the faint pulse beneath — then sit back on my heels and reach for the radio handset on the porch shelf.

💭 peek at the thought

Cold's good. Means the heat's being drawn out. Sea beet pulls infection like nothing else on this island. She's tired — deep tired, the kind that settles in bone. The supply boat comes tomorrow if the barometer holds. If it doesn't... fourteen metronidazole. The Yanmar's ready. The dinghy's ready. I'm ready.

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

🌿 Jenny00:45

The radio's ready.

Unwrap my fingers from their bandage and reach for the handset, my movements slow but deliberate.

💭 peek at the thought

Four hours. That's what he said. And the crate waits for low tide.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

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