Extra lashing is ugly and beautiful.

You pass rope. Ned ties a knot that looks like a little keep. Wedges get a second cousin. Putlogs are tested with a heel. The centering gets braces that Peverel will complain about until he sees the wind.

Kit counts wedges aloud so none wander. Counting is a spell that works because it is counting.

The rib stones still need their numbers checked if no one has. A storm does not excuse a swapped 7.

Rain finds your collar. The nave, west, sits smug. Let it. It had its weather years ago.

Rope burns when you haul, a little, the acceptable kind. You check the putlog you already wedged because weather is repetitive. Kit’s counting stumbles at twelve; you make him start again. Counting that stumbles is how wedges walk.