In a bustling anthill at the edge of a thick forest, there lived an ant named Anton. Unlike his fellow ants, who diligently followed the colony's strict routines, Anton was stubborn. He forever questioned wherefore things had to be done a certain way. One sunny morning, when the colony set come out to gather food, Anton decided to undergo a different path. "Why follow the crowd?" he thought, convinced that his way would lead to a greater reward.
As the day went on, the other ants gathered food and returned to the hill. But Anton wandered far, stubbornly refusing to turn back up flush when he base nothing. The sun began to set, and the once brilliantly forest turned ominous. Anton realized he was lost. Fear gripped him, but he pressed on, too refractory to admit his mistake.
Eventually, Anton found himself at the undefined of a stream, the moonlight reflective on the water. Tired and hungry, he looked back out at the dark forest and finally understood. His obstinacy had led him away from refuge and community. With great effort, Anton retraced his steps, vowing to ne'er let his congratulate lead him wide again.
