Early morning at the Silver River Hub.
A worker stood outside the bunkhouse, rolling his belongings into a cloth sack. He had been here since the first warehouse went up. Now he was packing.
Another worker approached. "Heading back home?"
The man paused. His hands stopped moving.
He looked at the hub. The eastern gate was open. The first convoy was forming. Someone laughed near the mess hall. The lanterns along the freight yard were being extinguished one by one.
He looked back at his sack.
"...No." He set it down. "I think I'll stay a bit longer."
---
Across the yard, a driver was hitching his wagon.
A rival carrier approached. "Heard Lord Vance is offering better rates. Faster route too."
The driver didn't look up. "Heard that."
"You're not taking it?"
The driver finished the harness. Checked the crates. Checked the lane markers.
"I'm staying."
"Same pay. Less work."
The driver climbed onto his bench. "Things work here."
