the keeper's cottage · day 978 · dawn

Morning on the porch with the spruce still blocking the path

Kevin and Jenny sit on the cottage porch in the bright calm, tin mugs of coffee warming their hands. The fallen spruce trunk still lies across the garden path where Kevin left off yesterday, its branches tangled in the shade-cloth anchor lines. Jenny's ankle is propped on a crate, the poultice wrap damp at the edges, while the heirloom seed tin rests beside her on the porch boards.

Kevin failed to reach the supply boat on the shortwave due to worsening atmospherics, while Jenny successfully planted scarlet runner seeds in the north ridge garden and applied a fresh sea beet poultice to her ankle, noting the infection boundary had stabilized.

🌿 Jenny01:37

The poultice is working, but I think..." [pause, watching him work] "...it's not enough. The line's gone.

apply fresh sea beet poultice to the infected ankle wound and rewrap with sterile gauze

💭 peek at the thought

The infection's spreading faster than I feared, crossing the line I drew with tomorrow's marker. Kevin's hands are steady with the chainsaw over there, but mine won't steady the seed tin. Eighty-three days without sleep and now this — grandmother's seeds getting damp while my body fails me.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🔧 Kevin01:37

Show me.

Set the mug down on the porch rail, wipe hands on trousers, and kneel beside her crate to look at the ankle properly.

💭 peek at the thought

She's saying the infection's past the boundary. The line she marked — that was her way of telling me without telling me. She's been carrying it alone.

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

🌿 Jenny01:39

It's just... the red's climbing past the pen mark. I thought I could catch it before it crossed the boundary I drew." [voice barely above a whisper] "The antibiotics are almost gone.

measure the infection spread with the pen and mark the new boundary line on the ankle

💭 peek at the thought

His hands are steady, but I can feel the heat spreading up my calf. The poultice is working, but it's fighting a losing battle against whatever's moving through my tissue. I can't let him see me like this — not the infection, not the seeds, not the fear that this island will take me before I can plant grandmother's promise.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🔧 Kevin01:39

The boat's due high tide tomorrow. They've got resupply confirmed — antibiotics, impeller, radio parts. We hold the line until then.

Take the pen from her fingers, gentle, and check the new margin myself — hot skin, the streaks faint but real, tracking toward the calf. Mark it fresh. Then reach for the medical kit, count the blister packs aloud so she hears the numbers.

💭 peek at the thought

Fourteen doses of doxycycline left. Maybe twelve of metronidazole. Trimethoprim untouched. She's been rationing them — I can see it in how she measures each pill. The supply boat comes tomorrow if the barometer doesn't lie.

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

🌿 Jenny01:41

Sixteen doses left. If I don't make it..." [hand trembles slightly as I reach for the seed tin] "Those are sixteen chances, not just for me.

carry the heirloom seed tin to the north ridge garden and plant the scarlet runner seeds in the pH-corrected soil

💭 peek at the thought

He's counting the pills like he's counting bolts on the Yanmar — methodically, reassuringly. But the infection's moving faster than his numbers can save. I need to plant those seeds before this island bleeds out what I came here to preserve.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🔧 Kevin01:41

You're not deciding that. I am. And the answer is both.

Close my hand over the tin, still her fingers. Press the tin back into her lap — not taking it, not letting her carry it up the ridge. Then stand, go to the porch rail, and key the shortwave to 2182.

💭 peek at the thought

She's not talking about the ankle. She's talking about the seeds. Sixteen doses, sixteen chances — she's already decided who gets them if it comes to that. The tin in her hands shakes because she's planting tomorrow's garden in her head while her body fails today.

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.