The sign said stable.
Below it, a line of tired cultivators waited to help preserve the emergency margin.
Felix watched a plume rise from the harbor return.
“Ordinary shortage?” he asked.
Vivienne looked at the nearer outlet.
“Keep distance first.”
She didn’t offer to repair it from the ship.
The Gull’s Luck waited behind trade vessels, family boats, and a relief barge whose deck held more carefully tied bundles than Felix wanted to imagine carrying.
