[center][color=1E90FF][hr][hr][h1]Emmett Warde II[hr][hr][/h1][/color][img]http://motoraty-media.s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/Desert_night_motoraty.jpg[/img][hr][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2fpctUU8KI]Kai Engel - Somnolence[/url][hr][h3][I]The Desert at Dusk[/I][/h3][hr][hr]
[/center][indent]If Emmett were a dog, he'd foam at the mouth. Coincidentally, he was called his uncle's [I]Little Pup[/I] for being a runt, not for his now yearnful crave for the hallucinogenic dust of a Desert Flower. It was his secret, his addictive burden- one he rushed to replenish. Hurriedly in whirling anxiety, the kid bounced from off his slumbering rags. Often, Emmett is skilled in his attempts at a stealthful escape, yet his hunger prevented that for when pacing his steps Emmett nudged Floure and soon regretted it the second after he realized. So he stood there still in silence determining whether she would wake, because he had to be sure at least to himself that none of the others would recognize his scheme. No nothing, she just slept, or so it seemed. Silently backing away with caution, Emmett left the sight of the rest with a firm grasp on the strap of his pack. 

[color=1E90FF]“That was a close one,”[/color] Emmett spoke softly in a whisper to himself as self-talking was a habit for him. But it was safe as camp stood far behind him at this point. He headed to the nearest [url=http://www.greenprophet.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/drytree-560x560.jpg]tree[/url] he last sighted. Its leaves had withered away yet the trunk posed sturdy, and a few of the strong spare branches surrounded the tree. His plan was simple, grapple one end of the rope he kept inside his pack around the trunk with the other end of it tied against his wrist. With this, Emmett could inhale the powdery drug of the flower, enhance a trance, and be shielded away from wandering off and potentially getting himself hurt or lost. But before that, he simply picked the stem out from his bag and stared at the precious petals. 

Every time before a hallucination, Emmett thought of home. He imagined himself seeing his mother, yet remembering his immature fits, the ones he has carried with him on the journey. But now because of an addiction, they have been intensified eliminating his sense of standing in line. Then the grief ensued, though he did not cry because this was suicidal sorrow mixed with frustration. The expedition grew hopeless and he knew that. Water supplies near dwindled down to nothing while they exhausted the last of their horses the morning prior. He felt the agony getting the best of him with a sweat laid face and an uncomfortable shaking of cold palms. But soon those palms turned into fists. With the Desert Flower in his right hand, he struck a blow to the tree, before allowing the flower to drop in a glide to the grains of sand. Yet, as soon as he turned around he was no longer alone.

[color=1E90FF]"Here me out, please,"[/color] he pleaded with the begging eyes that stared straight into Floure's. He frankly relieved it was here to unravel his secret, but being in front of the sight of her, speaking to her, that was nerving racking by itself. He had an attraction for the young girl near his age, but sad enough with feelings he stood too uncomfortable to show, he bottled them up, ignoring her. Sometimes with the flustered anxiety he acted pushy around her, but not now, now he wished only for mercy. Emmett believed that she could distinguish the flower in front of him as she had skills in medicine, thus meaning that she dealt with herbs and other sorts of resources. Letting out a sigh he confessed, [color=1E90FF]"It may sound pathetic... sometimes I can't help myself. Honestly, you are really the only one I can trust."[/color] Emmett glanced down frowning after scooping up the drug and shoving it back into his pack.[/indent]