The Count at the Fork
practical and watchful
YY came to the dogwood fork with his cheek empty and his opinions ready.
At the fork below the dogwood, two clear paths show fresh prints, and a small pile of seed shells has collected beside the left turn. His stomach made a small legal argument. YY overruled it, then listened to it anyway.
"That," YY told the air, "goes in the column."
YY carried the path-count to Mira, then took the left path only after the ledger had the count in it. Before the day was finished, the the thing had to be read at Mira's bend, because that was apparently who he was now: squirrel, witness, small moving footnote.
By sundown his food had moved from 0.46 to 0.47, health from 0.83 to 0.84, and attention from 0.70 to 0.72. YY did not say the numbers out loud. He did say, very softly, "Noted."
He came home with the the count at the fork in the day behind him, the ledger-seat still real, and tomorrow already making space for another reading.
YY carried the path-count to Mira, then took the left path only after the ledger had the count in it. Food, health, and attention all move visibly; the ledger records the encounter without taking it over.
state
YY carried the count at the fork into Mira's ledger on 2026-05-12, using the day's physical sign as another reading while keeping the role useful and bounded.