A day had passed.
Vance and Aurelia sat over a sparse breakfast of thin porridge, the events of the previous day hanging heavily between them. The weak morning light did little to warm the chilly dining room of their temporary residence.
Their tour of the western perimeter had been a sobering experience. The fence was less a defensive structure and more a collection of splintered wood and desperation.
The scale of the repairs needed was staggering, far beyond what the town's exhausted, dwindling population could manage on its own. Without significant external support in materials and manpower, it was a hopeless task.
"Even if we redirect every able body, the materials alone..." Aurelia murmured, stirring her porridge without appetite. "We need timber, nails, tools... and someone who knows how to build a proper defensive wall, not just patch holes."
