As he strides forward through this peaceful, still, shallow, lake he keeps his gaze fixed forwards on what lies ahead. The unknown, the unknowable, what lies beneath the surface? Only a steady focus and unbending intent can carry him forwards and avoid the stumbling upon a hidden rock, or drifting with the subtle tide into the ambiguous murky depths.
At the sound of a distant splash he halts in his tracks. It is not until he ceases his forwards motion and does the illogical; stopping, turning to face that path that he has trodden, that he sees the wake that lays behind him. As tender footed as his footsteps fall, with the care and grace of a gentle snowflake, he cannot help but disturb the peaceful waters flow, in an expanding arc behind him. The dust that has settled is thrust into the stream, eddies swirl and murk the way further.
He attempts one more step forwards, but cannot avoid disturbing the fragile environment around him. Lest he go back, or forth, every move creates a cascading crescendo of ripples and an ongoing fractal reaction of change in all directions.
It is at this moment, when he realises that no movement, however small, can be made without casting a ripple, which subtly affects this entire delicate ecosystem. He turns to face the misty depths of the lake that lays before him and treads cautiously onwards. If ripples be cast, at least now they are the result of carefully placed, premeditated footsteps into the unknown, to avoid disturbing the monsters which lay beneath.
Every footstep disturbs this delicate, watery world around him in some undetectable, but irreversible way. With this in mind, he draws his cloak tight around his shoulders, as the wind whips through the misty air around him and he soldiers onwards into destination unknown. But at least now he can choose his footsteps very wisely. Very wisely indeed.