Meya had repaired roofs with one arm before. The arm had always agreed where the floor was.
Her right forearm pulled behind her toward the nursery's old down. She tied its wrist to her belt, took two steps across the handprint wall, and nearly punched herself in the back when the roadback shifted under the house.
Kipra caught the loose elbow before it struck the fresh crack.
"Tie your bad arm above the belt knot."
"My arm remembers yesterday's floor and refuses correction."
Kipra moved the loop anyway. She had tied enough injured adults after a roll to ignore an adult being annoyed about it.
The two younger children sat beneath the wall clasp with the blue sleeping rope across their laps. One still had rope fibers between his teeth. The other held a painted block against her chest and watched the strangers tied along the red wall.
