Rolling up her sleeves and stretching her arms out in front of her, Al briefly attempted to examine her fingernails through blurred vision. Lifting up her arms above her head and yawning, she brought her body in with the circle her arms had made and stood up.

The air was crisp, which meant nothing to Al, except that it was cold. Serr commented on how the joy of the morning seemed profuse, even in the animals. In the silence that followed, Al strained to listen, but could hear nothing. She told him so. There was the buzz of insects somewhere off in the near distance, but no bird called and no squirrel scampered. The mules were eating their breakfast.

Serr only looked at her tellingly, but the message was lost in translation, and Al shrugged and sat down in the wagon. It was too early to be awake, despite what Serr might say, despite his threats. He was, after all, a bit of a moron, and you could never have too much sleep.

Watchful in the relative comfort of her new position, Al examined Serr through one leaded eye. She saw his long, craggily blonde hair fall over his supple physique, muscles sliding underneath his clothing as he prepared and repacked the wagon. She wanted to know, as she did every morning, why they couldn't just take a car. Serr told her she was an idiot, as he was prone to. The reasoning had been sound when they set out. Why did she keep forgetting it?

Both Serr and Al knew the reason for her lapse in memory. Al resented Serr for knowing it, and she resented him for being so much like herself. There was something small and vague that bothered her, but ever-present, like a mosquito. She had difficulty putting her finger on what exactly it was, but then she decided it wasn't important.

Serr finished with the cart, which he had insisted they call 'the wagon'. Al snuggled down in it, amongst their luggage. Her eyes took in the expansive sky and scenery, and the scent of mule filled her nostrils. The wagon rumbled, the animal pulled, and the wheels turned.

Later, Al was walking slowly alongside the wagon, picking at the straw in her hat that flopped too close to her eyes.
"Hey Serr."

"Mmm," was the response she got. Serr's legs and body were cramped into the wagon, limbs spilling out the sides.

Suddenly Al struggled, briefly, with her footing, scampering up a short ways and guiding the mules up a sudden incline in the valley. The mule with the packs led the way, a stubborn, loyal, and impressive animal with emotion in its eyes. The mule that followed was also strong and steady, but lacked the brilliance of character that the other possessed. They made it up all right, but not without jostling the cart considerably.

Nevertheless, through it all were wisps of Serr's soft, contented snoring, which sounded to Al's kind ears like sighs on the wind. Al had forgotten what she had wanted to say, her breath coming too hard and loud for talking to be practical anymore. She shifted the backpack she wore on her waist and shoulders, and wandered off into the waving prairie grasses of her private thoughts. It was the land of no return, Serr liked to tease, but this time there would be no light whisper to jostle her from her reverie. At least not for a while.

It wasn't until sun had crossed its zenith that Serr awoke. Looking up at the sky he judged it was about time they had lunch and let the animals rest. Al certainly was not averse to that plan. There was no sign of water running anywhere near, so Al was forced to ensure that they rationed what amount they had left. They took their water in canteens, and set up a small bucket for each mule.

Serr raised a small canopy for shade and unpacked the loaded mule with Al's assistance. It was crackers and cheese for that day, and Serr judged they could each have a piece of fruit as a reward. They ate wordlessly, both too far past the point at which silence bothered them to be filling the space with idle conversation.

It wasn't until the laziness and heat of the afternoon began to wear on them both that Al tried to grasp what she had begun to say earlier. They had left the tent with the animals, but kept both in sight.

"Serr, don't you ever feel that life is a little..."
Serr had groaned a few seconds after the word 'life'. He rolled his eyes and looked at her.
"Don't tell me," he warned.
"What?" Al asked, all innocence.
"You're one of those..."
"Yeah?"
"Brood dudes."
"Brood dude?" She asked.
"Yeah. A dude who likes to brood about stuff." Al face fell, her eyes round, as if she couldn't believe her ears.
"Oh. My. God." Serr just barely laughed. "But don't you think life is a little boring?" She spat out hurriedly.
"Yeah." Serr said without pausing. He stopped. "Yeah, it is."

"I just hope that it's not too late to change things."