Location: The Great Plain

Wim rode holding the man on the horse. He talked about everything he could think about. Life back across the sea, traveling on the ship, women he had known and those that had spurned him which was the majority. He talked about what he learned about brewing and drinking. He talked about life but not about what was bothering him, the war, or Elizabeth. If the man was conscious he probably would have attacked Wim to get him to stop talking.

Around dusk, Wim found a stream and decided to camp there for the night.
Some bushes hid them. He laid the man down and poured some water into the man’s mouth. Wim was glad that the man swallowed. He had a slight fever which Wim hoped was just from his body healing. Add not being a healer to his list of failures.

Scrounging Wim found a patch of berries that were ripe and red. Well, Wim found a colony an biting ants that led him to the berries. As he stripped out of his pants and with some commotion he set about shaking them to get the ants out of them and eventually jumping into the stream. The warm and cool water calmed the bites. Carefully, he picked handfuls of the berries. He ate a few and then crushed some for the Plains man. Putting them in his mouth after mushing them small enough that the man would not choke.

The man was younger than Wim. He was muscular and fit. There were scars on his arms and chest from fights. Wim thought he looked hansom, hard chiselled facial features. There was a bit of envy in Wim’s mind.
“Never satisfied,” he said to himself shaking his head.

Running his hand down his jaw, he decided in the morning he was going to shave.
Wim fell asleep holding the spear against the trunk of the tree and dreamed of riding a horse, wild across the plain.

The morning found the safe, the wild animals staying clear of the ant colony. Wim shaved with his knife and the picked more berries for them to eat.

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