The Traveler

"We need to make camp.”  

Taking a half step back in squaring her shoulders, he says to her, “I am not him.” Once said, he leaves her side.

Quiet in his walkabout, seats a marble, and lets it fly. A walking bird always has its mate nearby and unmoving in his stance, soon after, he lets loose another marble that strikes the side of the mate’s head.

A scene from Romeo and Juliette plays in his head while carrying the two carcasses to a nearby stream. Cleaned, he walks upstream before he stoops to fill his water bladder. On his way back to where he left her, the scent of a fire has him looking out to the roundabout that has him seeing Chester out grazing.

In turn, he holds up his kill for her to see as she in turn, shows off a handful of greens.

Together, they help each other prepare their meal and in the process of doing so, she says to him. “This man you are after, is no friend of mine.” She leaves his eyes by staring at the fire licking its flames all over the skewered meat.

With only a rough drawing to go by, she holds an intricate piece to the puzzle by knowing the alchemist’s face.

How she knows, is not to be talked about. “Put that man out of your head.”

“Not that easy to do. But I appreciate what you’re saying. You can call me Mary.”

In return, he says to her. “Born a Sagittarian, Archer is my given name.”

“The name suits you well.”

His reply is cut short by reacting to Chester kicking up a fuss. Out from the corner of his eye is Mary up and gone before he even moves. Like her kid, he thinks the mule.

 

 

After finding out what had spooked the mule, Mary is all about soothing Chester up to the moment of the mule trotting off. Without a word, Mary picks up the dead reptile.

Skinned and sliced, it is after the last hunk of snake meat is draped over the spit that has Mary grabbing a handful of dirt before she goes about washing her hands. The memory of running water seeps in like a dripping faucet. Too long in staring, she catches him looking. “Back to medieval times the world has turned." That said, Mary rubs her hands against the outside of her covered thighs before she goes to tending to the meal at hand.