Noah continued, plucking each Tender with the same care, and each one underwent the same transformation.
Silver white humanoids with simple expressions adorned in farmer's overalls.
Twenty-seven became a force that could tend not just to a Shore but to the concept of growth itself. They arranged themselves in neat rows as he worked, their eyes shining with the particular brightness of purpose recognized and enhanced.
"Help me harvest everything," Noah instructed them, his voice carrying the gentle authority of someone who knew his requests would be fulfilled with joy. "Store some in the Sacred Totems for preservation. Everything else goes to the center of the Shore for all to partake."
