The Ardent

Why do we always go in the same direction? The thought flowered soft but uncomfortable in his gut, like a young rose sprouting its first thorns. The idea seemed... sweetly tempting, exhilarating for its unknown potential perils. He held the idea, caressing it, exploring it. It felt somehow warm, promising. Why can’t I go where I want? His herd was laboriously drifting Eastward, sliding gently beneath the equally unhurried ascent of the bright ball of warmth even now rolling leisurely upward. A quiver of excitement momentarily lit him from within. A nearby elder, grand and dignified, slowly glanced in his direction in mild interest. The longer he toyed with the idea, the more inevitable action became, until he knew he had made up his mind some time ago and was simply plucking up the courage to tear away. A shiver ran up his back, and at once he sheared off Northward, terrified beyond cognizance but forging ahead nonetheless. Arduously – requiring more energy than he had first anticipated – he slowly peeled away and veered off from the rest of the herd. A faint stab of horror was quickly overwhelmed by sheer childish delight as he drifted North by his own volition. The others didn’t as much as look back. The wind seemed new, cold and fresh as it breezed in from the East. He wanted to cry out in excitement – he was free! Gathering momentum he struck out, forward, in altum, away. He felt like laughing. The sun blinked down at him. Where are you hastening, little one? Without glancing up, enthralled, he grinned with savage pleasure. Away, of course! The sun blinked again, bemused. But why? The little one managed a distracted shrug, turned his attention forward again. To see. Had he not been so completely preoccupied by his singular endeavor, he would have heard the fiery one murmur two cautionary words. Hasten slowly. He left his herd behind, and without looking back, fled gleefully. To the North another herd, massive – bigger by far than he had ever seen – was slowly grazing Westward towards the now setting sun. Does our herd look like that? he wondered, and suddenly regretted not looking back at his own. He felt a twinge of doubt burgeon uncomfortably somewhere inside him. Vaguely discomfited, he hesitated, and attempted to halt his headlong rush. For some reason he continued drifting Northward. Some mysterious current had captured him and continued flinging him towards the vast herd ahead. The stain of uncertainty began bleeding, spreading, turning joy to dread. Through his distress he suddenly became aware of his edges unraveling. He was dissipating, shrinking ever so slowly, dwindling away. Terrified, he looked to the sun. What’s happening? he cried. The harder he tried to move, the smaller and more exhausted he became, rendering the effort spurious. The sun looked down unhappily. Horrified, the little one swung about towards his herd and strained in blind panic, yet he continued to float out into the vast, hungry expanse between the mammoth herd and his now-distant own. He was still being drawn farther and farther away. He cried out, wordlessly, but none but the helpless sun could hear his pleas. Smaller still he became until he had not even the strength to call out. His last thought was regret. Soon, the little cloud had evaporated, and not a trace remained. The sun turned to the east to watch the leisurely approach of a dozen great herds and smiled sadly.