The Traveler

Up before the morning light, the reason behind his early rising, includes a visit to the creek. It has been weeks since he had the chance to wash the crud from his neck and feeling grateful, on his way back, he is fortunate to spot a tiny patch of wild strawberries. With barely a handful wrapped and put away, going to and after finding camp the way he left it, puts the rolled leaf on the flat side of a rock that is close to her. Gift left, and caring little of the beast whose neck is swung in his direction, climbs out of the gully and once upon the road, immediately picks up on the breeze carrying the scent of burnt oil. Thinking he should find the source, ends up staring at a fifty-five-gallon drum emitting oily flames of blue and crazy red. Thinking this is the place and after seeing enough, he goes to backtracking and upon his arrival, Chester has his eyes on him but what outweighs that, is her saying to him. “I thought you left us.” Covered in thick skin are the words said, but it is the light in her eyes that tells a different story.

Wanting the truth to be known, he pours forth. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

At first, she just stares at him and then she blasts out, “What makes you different.”

Having good in his soul is on the verge of spilling forth, but it is the emotional attachment of showing off that keeps his mouth shut that has her eyes leaving him. Silence reigns the moment until she asks, “What did you see.”

“A burning drum.”

A nod. “The main gate opens at dawn.” Once said, that serious look upon her face suddenly changes to one of annoyance as she says rather quickly, “I’ll be right back.” Left, what seen out of the corner of his eye is enough to pull him around in seeing Chester trotting after her that digs a groove upon his mind about companionship. Taking the higher step is his gut telling him he better find something to eat. Reacting to by giving up on sitting around, he gets to his feet but before doing so, scribes in the dirt, b back soon. Whether this is enough, thinks it will have to do, as he walks into the woods.

Spotting the trail this side of the waterway, he hunkers down and in taking the time in loading a chipped rock, keeps the slingshot at the ready when he goes to thinking about her offer.

In his mind, what it comes down to, is that she wants him to kill the alchemist just so she can watch him die. The thing about that is, that another family already has dibs. He should talk about this before she gets all riled up when flashing by in puffs of dirt, ends with him missing by a mile. Loading up while clearing his mind of inner thoughts, sure enough, the ground rodent comes back around. His aim is true and once cleaned, he walks into camp bearing gifts.

With the fresh kill upon the spit, he tells her. “The man you hate, is also the man I must keep alive just so those who have hired me, can have their fun.”

“Wait. So. Hold on.” Trust is crazy thin then and saying nothing that would interrupt her composing thoughts, on her own will, she looks at him and says, “Weird how that s**t is. So, me and Chester get to follow you, right?”

“Every step of the way.”

She is all smiles, and off in giving Chester a wrap of her arms, notices that she is speaking to the mule in telling words he cannot hear and left to the spit, he gives it a turn.