"Are you coming, John?" Sherlock bellowed from the top of the woods.
"Yes. I'll be there now!" The doctor called back distantly. He was slightly distracted because his eyes were searching the mud and twigs for the evidence.
The rain dripped from the leaves in heavy drops, landing noisily on the fallen twigs and leaves below. The doctor ruffled his hair, sending small droplets of water flying in all directions. The rain had been coming down heavily for the last hour and it didn't show any sign of lightning up at all. At least I'm under some canopy, John thought while trying to look on the bright side.
Sherlock had already looked here so had marched on further up the hill the woods had grown on. The detective had stormed out of view nearly 20 minutes ago and the blonde man found it quite amusing that he had only got to the top of the hill. John shook his head and continued to drag his feet through the ankle deep mud.
A key. That was all they were looking for. One tiny little key in this large woodland. Sherlock was certain that the suspect had dropped it while sprinting and dodging the low hanging branches.
The mud sucked at the ex-soldier's feet as he pulled his leg up to take another step. He grunted as he yanked his foot up. With a loud squelching sound John's shoe was left in the deep mud. The short man cursed and bent down to tug at the item of footwear while balancing on one foot.
With a great amount of effort, John managed to pull his trainer out of the thick brown sludge. The mud had run over the top of the sides and began to dribble inside the shoe. The doctor could feel it absorbing into his sock as soon as he put his foot inside. He violently cursed again and continued walking on. He decided to abandon looking for the key and began to head towards the road. It was Sherlock's case so he could do this on his own.
John continued to storm towards the main road when a vine 'magically' appeared on the floor in front of the angry man. The tip of John's recently mud freed shoe got caught on the plant making him fall forward.
The blonde man attempted to pull his hands out of his pockets but it was too late. John was milliseconds away from smacking his face, full force, into the mud.
The doctor landed with an almighty squelch. His face was covered in the mud that smelt like it was partly made up of animal dung and rotting vegetation. John swallowed and the taste of partly decayed leaves travelled down his throat. It made him heave.
The doctor coughed and spluttered but the taste of squirrel poo was still clinging to the back of his throat. He could hear Sherlock calling for him somewhere in the distance but he couldn't care less about the sociopath now.
The mud was spread all over his face, jumper and the front of his jeans. It was stuck to the fine tips of his greying hair making it come further down over his forehead from the weight. He pulled his hands over his face so that the mud slipped away in large clumps. The smell was beginning to make him feel extremely nauseous.
John was about to push himself up but a slight shining from amidst the dirt, about a meter in front of him, made the soldier freeze in the mud. He blinked a few times to make sure that it wasn't a mind trick before he reached out for the golden shine.
His hand closed around the object and then he pulled it up close to his face to inspect it.
In the mud, which he now grasped in his hand, was a ring made of gold and it shone in the fading light of day. The doctor plucked it from the dirt and admired it in his hand. The world around him seemed to slow as he gazed at the perfect circle. For a moment, there was no sound save for the beating of his heart and heavy breathing. The trees, rain and mud all vanished from around him, leaving just him and this beautiful object. The ring seemed to almost draw the short man in. Draw him to it. It was almost fate for John to have fallen by here. The doctor allowed himself to stroke the dark sludge away from the precious metal. He savoured the feeling of his fingertips brushing gently over the ring.
The doctor swallowed as the gold ring called out to him. He wanted to keep it and protect it. Nobody else was to touch it. It was his.
"Mine." He muttered quietly and rubbed the gold between his thumb and forefinger gently.
He gazed at the fine metal before Sherlock's voice broke the connection John felt with this piece of shaped metal.
"John?!" Sherlock called again. The shorter man looked up quickly and scanned the area around him. He could see Sherlock making his way towards him.
The doctor took one last glance at the gold ring before slipping it silently into his pocket. He would mention this to nobody. After all, it is MINE.