The next morning began with low clouds and sweat.
By the time Raif stepped out of the shelter, the air already hung thick and wet with the scent of damp bark and churned earth. Somewhere in the distance, a branch cracked, not from danger, but the slow exhale of the jungle settling after the last storm.
He crossed the clearing, nodding to those already awake. Lira was sorting lengths of bark cord by thickness. Bren stood by the kiln foundation, arms folded, staring down at the stone base as though trying to will it back into shape. Daly arrived moments later with two pieces of chalky clay tucked under his arm and didn't even offer a greeting before dropping to his knees beside the structure.
"I marked the cracks yesterday," Daly said. "There's some erosion under the left channel."
"It's repairable," Bren replied. "But not fast."
Raif crouched beside them. "We'll work it fast enough. You've got half a team, and the other half's on the cistern with Eloin."
Daly gave him a look. "Assuming Eloin doesn't try to redo all the work himself."
Raif smirked. "That's Lira's job now. She'll keep him in check."
From the far side of the clearing, shouts echoed faintly. The sound of tools clinking together and bark being pried into place drifted toward them. The cistern crew had started.
Raif stood and turned, surveying the morning's efforts. The camp moved like a body now, breathing together, awkward at times, but purposeful. He gave a nod to Kael and Rix, who were preparing to depart again. They would scout the northern edge today, staying close but mobile.
"Report back before dusk," Raif said.
Kael signed something quick. Rix interpreted: "We'll mark everything we see."
Raif nodded. "Keep your distance. Don't engage."
Kael gave a sharp salute. They vanished between the trees.
With the kiln now almost finished and Daly barking measurements, the day's real work began.
Raif remained nearby for a while longer, checking in as needed. He helped adjust one of the outer support stones, wincing as the grit scraped his palm. "Push left," he called to Daly, who grunted in response as he levered a wedge into place.
"You're off by a thumb-width," Bren noted, watching from the side.
Daly straightened. "It'll settle once we start up the fire. "
"Or it'll crack again," Bren muttered.
Raif stepped between them. "According to the orb, it will be fine, but let's find out when it's built. Not now."
He moved off before either could answer. The bark flooring underfoot had warped from the rain; every third step shifted beneath his boots. He made a mental note to ask Mira to review the walkway layout once Syl was feeling stronger.
Over near the cistern, voices echoed, Eloin giving instruction, Lira correcting him, and Naera passing clay to seal the basin base. Fara was there too, scraping excess bark shavings from the funnel rim, her shoulders taut with focus.
Raif didn't interrupt. He just walked past slowly, watching the camp breathe. There was something satisfying in it, in the way hands moved without command now. People were starting to know their place, not in rank, but in rhythm.
Back at the kiln, Daly had begun cutting vent channels. He paused only once, wiping his brow. "If we make it past midday, we can start sealing. Heatstone in by evening, if we don't waste time."
"Then we don't waste it," Raif said.
He exhaled, rolled his shoulders, and picked up a spade.
Today wasn't about orders. It was about momentum.
It was past midday when Eloin arrived at the kiln.
He carried a half-wrapped bundle of resin mix under one arm and a curved bone blade at his hip. His eyes swept the structure in silence, lingering on the unfinished ventwork and the uneven rim around the inner chamber. Bren had stepped away by then, hauling bark to reinforce the windbreak. Daly, crouched beside the open base, didn't acknowledge Eloin's presence.
"You sealed the outer channel already?" Eloin asked.
Daly didn't look up. "It was dry enough."
"You didn't test the slope."
Daly turned just enough to glance at him. "Right, because your method's perfect. Like back at Hollowspine, when we, " He stopped himself short, the words bitten off like they'd burned his tongue.
Eloin didn't flinch. "This isn't Hollowspine. Here, our mistakes burn people, not walls."
Daly dropped the resin paddle and stood, brushing his hands off on his trousers. "If it doesn't pull draw, we'll widen it. Same as we did last time."
Raif, who'd been hauling a basket of cracked stone over to the side, straightened at the sound of raised voices.
Daly's voice was sharp now. "And you want us to rebuild the whole damn layout for your ideal version?"
"I want it to work," Eloin said flatly. "You rush through half a day's work and end up wasting the next two fixing it."
Raif approached slowly, setting the basket down without a word.
"You two have different styles," he said. "Fine. But this isn't about how you did it before. Eloin, is this according to orb's blueprints?"
"Yes. I've using it as a guide, just like the shelter and the perimeter fence. Sure it hasn't held up, but it works and that is what we want at the end of the day." Eloin replied.
Raif glanced between them. Daly's jaw was clenched like he was biting down years. Eloin looked older in that moment, not tired, but worn. This wasn't just a clash of work styles. It was two men trying not to bleed old wounds into fresh clay.
Eloin turned to him. "It's about stability. Daly doesn't check for thermal loss."
"I check what matters," Daly snapped. "And we're not in a forgehouse anymore. This is jungle scrap and jungle rules."
"Then at least check your pride," Lira said sharply. She'd approached from the cistern site, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her hands still streaked with clay. "You're both arguing over ash and bricks while the rest of us are working."
She looked between them, her tone sharp but not cruel. "You both care too much to back down, fine. But don't pretend this is just about the kiln. You're dragging the whole camp into your stubbornness. We don't have time for your unfinished arguments."
Daly's mouth twitched like he wanted to answer, but Raif cut in first.
"Enough," he said. "Eloin, advise. Daly, build. Either of you stop the work again, and I'll put Naera in charge of both jobs."
That earned a pause. Then a reluctant grunt from Daly, and a short nod from Eloin.
Raif walked away again, not needing to watch them return to work.
Behind him, silence hung for a moment longer, then the quiet scrape of stone on stone resumed. Daly knelt again and reached for the resin paddle. Eloin crouched nearby, checking the vent seams with slow, deliberate care.
Bren returned with a bundle of bark and said nothing as he dropped it beside the forge wall. Lira exhaled, not with satisfaction, but with grim acceptance, and returned to the cistern frame.
The tension didn't vanish, it folded. Pressed into calloused palms and silent tools.
The kiln would rise. Whether they agreed on how didn't matter. What mattered was that it held.
Raif took a slow lap around the clearing as the sun began to crest above the canopy. The heat deepened, sticking to skin and bark alike. He passed the shelter and paused when he spotted Syl awake, half-propped on a woven mat. A faint sheen of sweat clung to her brow, but her eyes were focused.
"You're up," Raif said, crouching beside her.
"Barely," Syl rasped, her voice rough. "You look worse."
Raif snorted. "Not wrong." He passed her a wrapped water reed. "How're you feeling?"
"Sore. Lightheaded. Still here." Her gaze flicked toward the kiln. "That Daly's shouting again?"
"Yeah. But they're getting things done."
Syl leaned back, letting her eyes close. "I liked him when I was asleep."
Raif chuckled under his breath, then turned as he noticed Tessa crouched nearby in the dirt. She was drawing again , long looping shapes that curved inward and spiraled. When she noticed Raif watching, she looked up briefly, then pointed.
"Is that… the kiln?" he asked.
She shook her head.
Raif tried again. "A beast?"
Another shake. She tapped a curved fang tied around her wrist.
"Oh," Raif murmured. "Something from before?"
Tessa didn't answer. She just traced her finger through the spiral again, then leaned forward to add a stick figure to the centre. A tall one, holding something long, maybe a weapon, maybe not.
She shifted closer to Syl, and the older woman instinctively let her lean in. Syl glanced down at the drawing, her brow furrowing. "That you?" she asked softly.
Tessa blinked once, then gave the smallest nod.
Syl grunted, half a laugh. "Takes guts to draw yourself like that. Takes more to live it."
Raif left them there and made his way toward the shade where Fara sat sharpening a piece of bone against flint. Her eyes tracked his approach but she didn't speak.
"That's good edge work," Raif said, nodding to the curved sliver.
"I know," she muttered.
"You planning to attach that to a grip?"
"Already started one," she said, reaching beside her to show a bark-wrapped handle braced with twine. "It's not finished."
Raif crouched to examine it. "Clean work. Better than mine, back when I started. A friend told me how to do something similar, we had to make weapons out of sticks and stones to defend ourselves here. Although he isn't here anymore."
Fara didn't reply, but her posture eased, barely.
[Structure complete - Clay Kiln]
Not long later, the kiln was finished. The work was hurried along since Eloin and Daly thought they could finish the kiln first before the Cistern, even if the Cistern was almost compelte. With it done, Eloin left Daly to work on the Cistern with Lira, getting help from Goss, Hennick and Luan.
Daly stayed at the kiln with Bren as they take the materials that Bren had scavenged from the Alpha Barkwolf and other various creatures. They worked tirelessly for a whiel until... a call rang out.
"Test piece is done!" Daly shouted.
The small group gathered around. Daly held a short-bladed weapon, curved with a sharpened fang edge and reinforced with bone. The handle was tightly wrapped with resin-hardened bark cord.
Bren stepped forward and tested its weight. He worked on but still needed to test it in case it wasn't satisfactory. He swung it once, twice, then gave a grunt of approval.
"Good balance. It'll cut."
Raif took it next and turned it in his hands. The fang blade was warm from the heat, slightly sticky with cooling resin that gave off a sharp, pine-sap scent. The edge shimmered faintly where the inner core had been ground down to a fine curve. He adjusted his grip on the bark-wrapped hilt, testing how it sat in his palm, weighty, but balanced, with just enough give to absorb shock without losing edge alignment.
He stepped over to a stub of barkwood someone had wedged upright and, without flourish, brought the blade down in a clean arc. The tip sheared through the side of the wood, biting halfway before stopping. He pulled it free and nodded once, satisfied.
"Nice weapon," he said.
Bren grunted his approval. "Better than I expected, for jungle scrap."
Daly gave a short, almost smug snort, but didn't speak. His hands were already sorting the next fang.
Lira stepped up and ran a thumb carefully along the spine of the weapon. "We could reinforce the next one at the joint. A cross-brace of bark-chitin might hold better under strain."
"I'll draw a pattern tonight," Daly said, quieter this time.
Raif passed the blade to Goss, who had wandered over during the demonstration. Goss turned it once in his fingers and gave a low whistle.
"You could do real damage with this."
Raif nodded. "We'll need it."
A soft chime echoed from the orb's direction.
[Advanced Weapon Crafted – Progress: 1/5]
[Loyalty Increased Detected+5 KE]
[Loyalty Increased Detected+5 KE]
[Total KE: 88/400
The sun dipped low, painting the clearing in muted amber. The fire hadn't been lit yet, but the warmth in the air clung to skin like a second shirt. Most of the camp had gathered near the tool racks, sorting scraps and wiping sweat from their foreheads.
Raif sat on a low stump near the orb's base, elbows on his knees, watching the camp with a tired intensity. Every part of him ached, not just from labour, but from the weight of keeping it all turning.
One blade done. Four to go.
Across the clearing, Lira and Naera were binding finished fang fragments into neat bundles. Goss walked by with an armful of bark sheets, nodding once to Raif without breaking stride. Fara dipped her half-finished blade into the water bucket, testing its temper. Tessa had vanished somewhere near the shelters, likely still near Syl.
Eloin sat alone at the edge of the kiln, hands dusted with clay. Daly was still working. They hadn't spoken since the argument, but they hadn't left the site either.
Raif let out a slow breath. He watched Daly still hunched over the weapon rack, flint in hand. Eloin, though sitting alone, was now jotting notes into a charred scrap of bark. Fara, fierce and quiet, had resumed carving her handle with rhythmic strokes. Even Tessa, wherever she'd gone, was part of the rhythm now.
He wasn't sure if they were moving toward something clear, or just away from where they'd started.
But they were moving.
And sometimes, that was enough.