Leaving and Wanting

"There is nothing for me." Ash finally said to Sam what he had waited to say for the past week. "This will be another waste."

And after having heard this, he took a knee. Sam then lifted an old mossy rock.

"This rock is my will." Ash took a hesitant step.

"The trees are my will." The rock was tossed. "This soil, this scattered dust, is my will. And I will not forsake it."

Ash felt dwarfed by the situation. He could only continue behind Sam.

Their ceaseless walking led them deeper west than Ash had bothered to think of before. The unfamiliar terrain failed to provide any satisfying novelty. In time, the repetitious sound of his own footfalls began to fray his nerves.

Ash violently pushed through a shrub to pass Sam.

"There are no answers, except the ones that we provide."

Ash's patience broke. This last gift of unwanted wisdom was too much to stomach. Ash worked around a dense growth of trees.

Sam lost sight of him suddenly. Sounds of disturbance rose a short distance away.

Ash searched for a low or fallen branch, while plodding on with large deliberate steps. He spotted a branch that was roughly his height. He lifted it and reoriented it. He tested his prize proudly. The rotted fibers collapsed and dusted his forearms. A six-legged bug navigated his arm.

His ire fueled and burdened him.

He could not decide whether or not to crush the unknown bug. He quickly thrashed forward through the woods and lost himself in the act.

Time soaked up his frustrations and hunger slowly replaced the vacancy in his thoughts. He returned to searching the woods as his focus shifted. His attention turned to a shrub that was weighted with fruit.

"I hate his rhymes." Ash cursed as he counted the branches and noted the shape of the leaves. Once satisfied and disgusted, he thoughtfully stripped a cluster of berries.

With lunch in hand, he returned to his solitary wandering.

The fruit quieted his stomach, but failed to comfort like the market's pies.

The break in the canopy opened wide as he approached the creek.

Sam was seated with the remnants of lunch in his hand. Ash looked at Sam. He knew he was already thinking of the next landmark. He had been turning things over in his mind while he ate and waited.

There were so many words Ash wanted to say that he could not pick one. Sam tossed the twig aside and stood again. Sam paused.

There was a moment of knowing, listening, and waiting.

Ash wanted to inform him. Sam turned and resumed in his original direction.

Ash started after him. He picked an ant off the stem and flicked it back away from the creek.