a jaunt, Athenadorus regarding it in his own way.

A strange tickle, at my neck, as I walked.  I looked back and saw Athenadorus had taken refuge in the warmth and odour of my footsteps.

I walked on, feeling the flit of the thigh, the motion excreted mostly by the calves;  I had the sky snd trees to entertain me, like a troupe of players on the round, the sky clearing of fogclouds and a breeze whispering among the leaves.

I wondered of Athenadorus, careful and modest in habit, if he would see an approaching vehicle and safely flee; I passed that thought as I took to the rise beyond tge crook, thinking at once to stop at the farmer's heirloom grape.

But I ignored the burning of the lower legs and pushed on, the grade increased, the incline hard and indifferent to my torturing my calves.  I walked almost headlong on the slope, and a yard began to unfurl, a stately old fence, then a vinyl thing, well tended lawn, magnolias, and i could see the intersection, that purely honest and unforgiving stopping place, damp clay comingbinto view more and more: the steep banking of ditches on the knoll.

As i turned i poured the scene into mind, washing in the surrounding, and then surveying for Athenadorus, too much a homebody and saint to have followed, the stoic pet loving enough to perch in my footprints, but yet much too philosophically set into the stone of personality to ever wander  from home, the grand feeding place.

Athenadorus the, back at the place, curled due to the downcast temperatures, set to watch my return, in the chance I would walk into the yard with food.