Shoutout to NotReallyAName for guessing the compass thing correctly!

Steve was ecstatic, for the first time, fresh air filled his new lungs. This wouldn't be much of an accomplishment if it weren't for the fact that he had been created only an hour before. He hadn't even known that air unclogged by the breaths of hundreds of other people existed. As soon as the trio consisting of Steve, Max, and Wither stepped out of Notch's castle door, Steve had fallen in love with the outside. The blue sky, the green grass, the animals, the plants, all these things contributed to his new found desire to never go back inside.

He tried to rush into the open space, but staggered, his legs buckling. He still hadn't mastered walking, and was like a toddler in the way he stood unsteadily. His two new friends walked slower behind him, and he raced back and forth between a tree and them, falling to the ground a few times. He was excited to get to the place they were going. When he had awoken, there were only two thoughts in his head. The first thought was his name, Steve, the second thought was more of a longing, a direction deep inside his bones, coursing through his veins like blood. He laughed in delight as the wind playfully ruffled his brown hair, causing it to dance.

He ran back to his friends, and pulled on the blonde's hand so she would go faster. She seemed amused by his antics, and shooed him away. He raced ahead again, stopping to inspect a rock. His new friend's voices drifted towards him on the breeze.

"I don't like him." The grey one, Wither, said.

The blonde, Max, replied to Wither with something Steve only vaguely understood. When Max spoke in that strange primitive language, it sounded as though she took all grammar, mashed it to pieces, then chose the most simple words to speak. So to someone else it would sound like, "why would you say that, Wither! He can hear you!" But to Steve it sounded like: "Mean. Why?" though with a strange funny accent that butchered the language even further. The sounds of that language annoyed him to no end. And what was worse, (was that according to Max) everyone spoke like this! The thought of having to listen to the same insulting tongue for the rest of his life scared him. So he decided that wherever the longing was pulling him, he would stay there, since no one was supposed to live in the End except the Endermen and the Enderdragon, to his delight and chagrin, neither spoke. Delight that they could not assault his ears with that excuse for words, and chagrin because it would be very hard to invite them over for lunch if they could not communicate.

"He just annoys me. He doesn't think much of me either." That was true. Steve didn't like Wither, mostly because Wither scared him. The God had a strange feel about him that made Steve think He was unstable, crazy. No one else felt this except Steve, he supposed the reason for that was everyone one else was used to Wither's feel of insanity. Steve thought even Wither didn't realize this growing darkness inside Him, that or Steve was the crazy one.

Before Max could speak, the newly created Minecrafter rushed back and said, "your language hurts my ears. Please stop." He then ran back in front of the small group.

Wither let out a burst of laughter that quickly died down. "That is also why I don't like him. How can on be so childish, yet knowledgeable? It's unnatural."

Steve looked back to see if they were still coming in time to spot the playful glare Max gave the God. "Fine. We wouldn't want to offend his majesty's ears." She had raised her voice to make sure Steve heard the teasing. Her voice lowered, but Steve could still hear her words drift to him on the breeze. "And you were like that when you were created, Wither. You knew things that are common knowledge, like what dirt is, or that monsters come out at night. But you had never seen it before. You had to experience it for yourself."

Wither grimaced, "was it as unsettling as it is now?"

Max didn't respond, but Steve was pretty sure she smiled.

"Hurry up! We have to travel over those!" Steve called back, pointing in front of himself. Wither groaned loudly, showing how much He disliked the idea of climbing over mountains while carrying ten heavy bags. Steve could see as Max shook her head at her friend, then reached for five of the bags. The God was very reluctant to give her any, which caused them to fight playfully. Playful for them at least, Steve didn't see how tripping someone, stealing everything they are carrying, and running ahead counts as being playful. But since Wither didn't do anything more than chase after her and take back the bags, Steve supposed it could be considered playful.

Max wheezed. She was fit, but not fit enough to withstand ten hours of walking uphill carrying five bags filled to the brim with what felt like rocks. All of them were tired, but she even more so seeing as one was a God and the only weight the other one withstood was his clothes, which were as light as four feathers.

Wither glanced at her worriedly every few minutes, regretting that He had given her half of his baggage after she had poked Him in His arm about a thousand times*. "Why don't we rest for a bit?" He called up, being in the back.

Steve, still looking very energetic, ran ahead then raced back again, "there's a cave we can rest in just around that corner," he pointed. Around the corner they went, only to stop and stare at the very narrow one block wide path. Which the male Minecrafter was gleefully running across, paying no mind to the fact that only a few hours before he had difficulty walking. Max surveyed the edge, it was a sheer drop all the way down. If she fell, she would die, simple as that. She readjusted her bags so they wouldn't unsteady her, and started off confidently down the path. Wither followed close behind, which annoyed her, but she reasoned that if either one fell, the other could catch them.

Carefully placing her feet, she made it half-way across before Steve came bounding back, inpatient and wanting them to go faster. He grabbed her arm and pulled, just like he had been doing most of the trip when he grew inpatient, except the difference was that the other times they were not delicately perched above a 70 block fall. Max tripped over the edge, but managed to grab on to a outcropping rock, saving herself from certain death. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for her cargo. All five bags tumbled down the sheer drop, spilling their contents as they went. Wither frantically pulled her back up and carried her the rest of the way, despite her numerous protests.

Wither was about to destroy Steve for almost killing Max, but she stopped Him. Steve was a child, a child with the body of a man/God, but still a child. That's not to say she wasn't mad, of course she was mad, Steve had just about killed her. But she knew letting Wither kill their only guide to the End would be very counterproductive. Instead she settled for yelling at the poor Minecrafter.

She very creatively swore, mentioned multiple times how dumb it was to yank on someones arm on the edge of a cliff, lectured him about losing most their food, then finally decided to discover how much stuff they had actually lost. To her great dismay, she found that there was only one bag of food, able to last all three of them only a month, and the rest was blankets. She had no idea why someone thought they would need four bags of blankets, but she decided that she hated them.

Max turned to Steve, who was still looking very dejected from her yelling session, and asked "how much longer will it take us to reach the End portal?" He made a face that she used such a monstrosity of a language, but wisely made no comment about simply looked to the entrance of the cave, his eyes unfocused, then said

"Three."

"Three?" Wither asked, "three what? Days, weeks, years?"

Steve shrugged, not even knowing the complete answer himself.

*Never underestimate the power of pokes.*

Okay, I have something important to ask. Is anyone enjoying this? Is anyone awaiting the next update eagerly? 'Cause if not, then I see no reason to continue like this. Don't get me wrong, I won't abandon the story, but I see no reason to drag it on and throw so much care into it if no one enjoys. Instead I could be focusing on something else, maybe a new fic, or reading, or something outside the fanfic community altogether. What I'm asking is, is anyone enjoying the plot, the details, and the characters?

I don't see a point in working on something so much only to have no one read or like it. This is not a desperate plea for reviews, though more would be nice, I just want to know if anyone cares enough for me to continue like this. If not, then the story will be less put together, I'll only pay great attention to the parts that I'm excited about, and the chapters will get even shorter than they are now.

Yeesh, I sound like a whiny little baby, but seriously, I want to know.