The wind off the coast was brisk enough to make Marron's hair stick to her lip balm, but she didn't slow down.
Maybe it would have been a better idea to bring all of the materials to Meadowbrook, instead of building some things here at Snakewater?
The cart rattled behind her like it was trying to complain.
She ignored it and focused on the goal: getting out of the Cove and back to where they started. Marron still had a debuff to her cooking skills and she was looking forward to hitting planks with a hammer.
Beside her, Mokko matched her stride in silence, his hands in his apron pockets. Lucy bobbed along in her glass jar, swinging from one of the cart handles like a lantern with opinions.
"Your cart sounds tired," Lucy offered, in what was clearly meant to be a joke. "Maybe we give it candy so it works faster."
Unfortunately, Marron wasn't in the mood right now. She was still sore about Lucy sending the letters without telling her.
"Lucy, not everything needs candy," Marron said flatly.
Lucy tilted. "But—"
"I said not now." The words came sharper than she meant.
Lucy whimpered in surprise and her glow dimmed to a dull amber. She retreated to the far side of the cart, her jar rocking in little pendulum arcs.
Mokko shot Marron a sideways glance but said nothing. Instead, when they reached Meadowbrook Commons, he set the cart's brake and nodded toward the half-collapsed bakery down the street.
"Come on Lucy, let's go check over there for salvageable boards."
Lucy looked at Marron once, like she was waiting for her to say something.
Marron didn't.
She was already unloading nails and a hammer, eyes fixed on the nearest floorboard like it had personally insulted her. Which was, coincidentally, located in the Meadowbrook Inn.
Mokko exhaled through his nose and lifted Lucy, already walking toward the bakery. "We'll bring you some good planks," he said over his shoulder. She grunted in acknowledgement and he left, one hand holding the slime, and a sack in the other.
+
After their departure, the Commons was dead silent. Occasionally the flap of a loose shutter could be heard, and the sound of Marron's hammer hitting the wood a little too hard.
Marron set the first plank across the roof gap and drove the nail in with quick, efficient strikes. Too quick, maybe—halfway through the second plank, the wood split down the grain with a sharp crack.
"Great," she muttered, prying the splintered piece loose and tossing it into the growing scrap pile. She finished repairing the inn's floor boards and admired her handiwork, leaning against a roof beam.
It gave a small groan, reminding her that this whole place was barely holding together.
I'm supposed to be repairing this place, not destroying it even further. I shouldn't take my anger out on these planks, but...it still sucks. What if the Lord Jackal and the Queen think I'm bothering them with my petty concerns, when they're busy negotiating for the good of their lands...
She was supposed to be patient here—measure, fit, check, then hammer. But patience felt like something for people who didn't have whispers following them through the market.
+
Before returning to her woodworking, she took several deep breaths and decided to whack one of the broken planks into splinters. Only then did her mood settle, and she felt patient enough to replace the broken plank and begin another section.
I can't repair roofs like this. I should just stick low to the ground until I'm fully better.
By the time Mokko and Lucy returned, her mood had improved some. She wasn't frowning, at least.
"I've finished most of the repairs, but the inn doesn't have a working kitchen anymore."
Mokko tilted his head. "Follow us. We found a bakery that still has some good ovens."
+
The bakery's door creaked as Mokko pushed it open with his shoulder, a neat bundle of boards under his arm. Lucy trailed behind, holding a rust-speckled cake pan like it was treasure.
"These are good," Mokko said, setting the boards down by her feet. "Straight grain, minimal warping. You can use them for—"
"I'll see where they fit," Marron interrupted, already grabbing one.
Mokko crouched beside the pile but didn't pick up a hammer. Instead, he quietly sorted the nails by size, keeping his hands busy while she worked.
Lucy set a cake pan on the bakery step, then drifted toward the inn. She crawled to the sign Marron had painted days before, where it now leaned against the inn's wall. She ran a tendril over the letters—Welcome, Traveler—and glanced at Marron like she was waiting for her to soften.
Marron didn't.
Not yet.
So the slime waited, and as she did, the sadness inside her grew. Her gelatinous body grew a little more cloudy, but Lucy decided to wait until Marron wasn't so mad anymore.
The sun dipped low enough to throw gold light across the square, and Marron grabbed her lantern and a ladder to work on the roof. Somewhere down the lane, she smelled the faint scent of baking bread—not hers.
Now she had a full view of the sunset and felt the cold wind down her back, drying the sweat. And somewhere in between the laborious work and the silence, Marron let go of her anger.
When she drove the last nail in for the day, she sat back, her arms heavy.
The roof was patched, for now. But the jagged split in the discarded plank sat at the top of the scrap pile, catching her eye like a reminder she'd rather not think about.
Mokko waited until Marron stepped away from the roof to coil the rope and tuck the hammer back into the cart. Then, without a word, he reached over to the scrap pile and pulled the split plank free.
It was light in his hands, barely worth burning for kindling, but he carried it toward the bakery where Lucy was fussing with her cake pan. She looked from the plank to his face, her glow tilting toward curious.
He just shook his head. "Best not to leave this where she'll keep seeing it."
Lucy accepted that answer, hugging the pan close. Together, they slipped inside the bakery, the broken board disappearing into the dim interior with them.
Out in the square, Marron leaned against the cart, watching the sign sway gently in the evening breeze. She didn't notice the absence of the plank.