“I can’t believe you’re really sticking to your ideals. Aren’t you starving?"

Shimshon clutched a fistful of the golem’s ragged shirt, and tried not to be thrown from the golem’s shoulder as the golem began to tromp through the forest.

Shabsi was quite serene beside him, more used to traveling so high in the air on an object shaking and twisting all over. The trees around them shook every time one of the golem’s massive feet slammed into the ground and birds shrieked in fright as they flew frantically from their nests and soared into the sky.

“Where is he going?!” Shimshon yelled over the din.

“Who?” Shabsi looked like he was about to fall asleep.

“Um, the golem.”

“Pinchas? I don’t know.”

“You don’t?”

“He’ll go wherever he thinks is safe. I trust him.”

“Has he, um, done this before? Because I’m pretty sure he isn’t familiar with this area if he’s been cooped up in your home all these years,” Shimshon said.

“Do you have a better plan, my boy?”