Winter arrived not with snow, but with wind. It swept down from the northern ridges, sharp and biting, carrying the scent of frozen pine and dead leaves. It tested the settlement immediately. The temperature dropped below freezing inland, but here, on the coast, the air remained temperate. Warm. Humid. The steam from the sea rose in thick columns, mixing with the smoke from the chimneys, creating a perpetual fog that clung to the stone wall.
Ezra stood on the walkway behind the barrier. He looked out into the grey mist. The wall held the wind at bay. Behind him, the camp was alive. The sound of hammers, saws, and voices drifted over the parapet. They were building roofs now. Thatched with dried grass and sealed with clay. Permanent structures. They were putting down roots in soil that did
