A shove happened. Einar appeared in the gap without touching either of them.
I got there before it became a story.
"Walkway stays. Wood stacks outside the path. If the extra steps are too much, trade the work with someone who can take them."
The shover muttered and bent to the billets. The other man spat aside and started moving his own share. Einar faded. Marta, watching from the stores, made a mark in her book that I suspected was less about wood than about who started what.
Tuva leaned on a post once the yard had settled. "You didn't make a speech."
"I needed the wood moved."
She tipped her head toward the east wall of the hall. "When we take our corner, I don't want it under the eaves where every argument lands against the boards. Quiet enough to hear each other when we disagree."
"We'll put it where the morning comes in."
She went back to the cut tools without needing more.
---
