The people of the pack were animated, joyful in the wake of Kurt and Liesel's miracle. But as their capacity for joy had grown, so had their capacity to fret and worry Kurt to death. Every man and woman, it seemed, was suddenly at a loss for what to do with themselves. The menial jobs and gardens and cottages that had once sustained them were suddenly too dirty and insignificant to keep them a moment longer. And as Garrit was still recovering, the responsibility of setting the people at rights after being suppressed for two hundred years fell upon Kurt's shoulders. "Foolish woman!" Kurt stomped in one day, shaking his head and muttering to himself incoherently. In the midst of the constant crisis that seemed to be perpetually developing in the suddenly too small village, the members of Kurt's family had chosen to stay together in the large cabin while things were set to rights. It was a good thing, too, as everyone else was so intent on either leaving or rebuilding their own decrepit houses that there wasn't a spare work animal to be found.
