Bracketing the establishment, weapons line the wall opposite the bar, offering another hope of salvation. Boxes of munitions are more carefully stacked at the base of the wall. The door and windows are completely open to the outside, showing an utter disregard toward the prospect of thievery. However, thickly woven briar barricades stacked at the back of the building offer the possibility of protection from lion attacks. The veranda railing is broken at the western side in a series of three steps that lead down onto the central commons.
Night hangs heavy over the trading post's veranda, held back by the frail flicker of kerosene lamps.
One such casts a pool of unsteady light across the grain of the wooden table where August sits, his substantial frame canted back in a chair, head lolled to one side. He might be watching the sky beyond the railing. Hard to say. A gnawing sound suggests that a rat is hard at work decimating some of the supplies. Catherine crosses the square quickly, rifle slung over her shoulder.