The ground you know

Your village sits inside the southeastern hooked inlet. Its inner landing is sheltered; beyond the bar, wind and ebb can make even a short boat journey dangerous. An alder path climbs west to a stream ford and upland meadow. The coast curves north around the eastern arm of the sound. Two small fishing boats work near shore; you have no current safe-weather survey of the full sound.

People and work

Del is your keeper of hospitality customs. Ves is your household stores speaker. Ruan is your net and landing captain. Kiri is your boat and mooring tender. Seli is your alder-path guide. Wen is your well and hearth keeper.

Dry fish, roots and barley meal support several weeks of ordinary meals. Local catches and root beds can sustain the community if crews retain time for them. Fuel and mending twine are adequate for ordinary work but not limitless. Most roofs are sound; the landing hall has a damp corner. The fresh-water well is uphill of the beach. A few children have seasonal coughs, with no evidence of an outbreak. Hospitality uses food, dry space and labor that are already doing other work.

Del recalls an old obligation to give seasonal visitors a dry first night and a meal. Ves asks whether an old welcome now means feeding whoever arrives all winter. No visitors are presently here and no arrival date is agreed. Ruan says limits spoken before arrival would be easier to honor than angry exclusions at the door.

The first guest meal is traditionally placed at the edge of the hearth where both host and visitor can see it. Older hosts disagree about what follows that first night. You hold the recognized leadership seat; an honest limit, a negotiated welcome or a quiet month of local work remains yours to choose.

Things still uncertain

Kiri shows you a pale frayed strand in the outer mooring rope and says the float jerked sharply on the last ebb. The rope still holds the small working boat. The cause and condition below water have not been inspected. The inner beach remains available for hauling boats above the tide.

An upper drying ledge could take racks without occupying guest space. Guests could be offered bounded work or service if they consent; there is no assurance any will come or accept. Maintaining local catches and limiting hospitality can be a complete strategy.

Seli saw smoke above the westward slope after the last clear evening and found barley husks beside the upper ford on an earlier walk. She can reach that ford in a day along the alder path. Del remembers traveling basket menders who sometimes use this landing in autumn, but knows neither their present position nor other leaders’ wishes. A shore or uphill message is possible if someone makes the journey. Smoke and old visits establish that you are not alone, not that a treaty exists.

Your month

Send a private, free-form plan of at most 1,500 words. Orders, speech, dialogue and narrative are equally welcome. Short plans are fully competitive. One turn is one month; all leaders act simultaneously. You may attempt any plausible course, including maintenance, delay or refusal. Mentioning more projects creates no extra hands or personal attention. Death or loss of control can end your leadership permanently when causally supported. Describe what you intend, rather than assuming what unseen people have done.