Renji stood at the edge of the wreckage and looked at it. Broken wood spread across thirty feet of road. Wheel spokes pointing in directions wheels don't go. Their supplies distributed across the ground like the carriage had simply exhaled everything at once before lying down. A single wheel had come to rest upright against a tree, which seemed almost deliberate, like punctuation.
He studied it for a moment with a quiet, closed expression.
"Alright," he said. "Let's see what's still usable."
He was the first to move into it. He picked up a bag that had survived intact and set it aside. Then another. Kaede worked the opposite side without being asked. Ayra gathered what the impact had scattered furthest. They worked without ceremony and without talking about what they'd lost, because talking about it wouldn't put it back together.
