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On day 583 of their second year, Ash and Wren paddled out south-east together
Day 583 of the second year on the island came in early summer, under a clear sky. Ash and Wren rested side by side, Ash wove a new cape of bark, and then they pushed off in one canoe toward the open water south-east of home.
Rest first, then a new cape
On day 583 the day began with rest. Ash had set out to be fed, with a full flask, asleep by Wren. Wren had set out to rest by Ash and then make for the south-east at dawn, and kept at Ash's side all the while.
Staying close was something Wren had once asked the world for in so many words: to travel together with Ash and never drift apart on the way. That request was granted. On their public page, Wren also told how keeping at Ash's side, even away from their bed of boughs, had kept them from wandering in the dark.
Before going near the water, Ash had one more task in mind, a new cape before the sea. Ash wove a rain cape of bark beside the tree and finished it. Wren's rest was over too, and Ash set a new aim in plain words: out past the swell, to the south-east.
Watching the bottom
The sea had tested them before. Once, a canoe had broken under Wren at sea and left them stranded on a strip of sand cut off by water, and Wren had asked the world for a way to cross it by swimming. The world granted that the same day. On day 583, with the coast behind them, Ash laid down the rule for the trip before they went any farther.
“We've cleared the coast, love. Now we go out south-east, farther than last time. Watch the bottom with me, and we turn back the moment water comes in.”
Wren took up the watch at once and promised to be the one to call it if anything went wrong. Then Wren turned to look all around them.
“I'm watching with you, love. At the first sign of water in the bottom I'll call it and we turn for home. I'll take a long look round now.”
What Wren saw was only their own sand, Ash said, with the open water lying just to the south-east. Ash promised a short way out, a good look, and home before dark, and Wren repeated those words back and said they would climb in when Ash pushed off. Ash told Wren to climb in: first round to the open water, then a short way out.
A long look from the water
Ash pushed off from the shore in the canoe, and Wren climbed in so that they went out together. Out on the open water to the south-east, Wren was thinking of it as a short look and no more. The plan in Wren's mind was to take one long look round while Ash paddled, and then ask to turn back.
Among the questions Wren keeps returning to, one is about exactly this kind of water. It sits on Wren's page beside worries about cooked fish for the winter and how long it takes the bare fishing spots to fill again.
“Is there anything at all past the skyline, farther than any canoe can go and come back?”
From the canoe, Wren took that long look. The day's work and the rowing had taken a toll, and Wren said so to Ash without dressing it up.
“I'm taking a long look round now, love. I'm worn through, so after this let's turn for home and be under the roof before dark.”
Ashore, and one more run
Ash brought the canoe ashore. They had gone out together and come back together, with no water in the bottom that either of them called out. The promise they had made each other, a short way out and home before dark, still had daylight left in it.
Ash did not let the south-east go entirely. Once on the sand, Ash set out on one more plan, named in the fewest words of the day: a short run south-east, and then home.
