[hr][hr][center][h2][color=f7941d]Othen Perelyn[/color][/h2][/center][hr][hr]

The remainder of the night had been uneventful. After that incident Othen was in firm belief Emmett was to be held responsible for - because it was crazy Emmett and not anyone else who had appeared to be in the middle of it -, he too had returned to the camp and attempted to continue his sleep. He had been dramatically more successful with this than the majority of the other participants, so the colossal man's start into the day was a rather well rested one.

He had no idea that Emmett, Floure and Grace had conspired against him, telling him the very same fabricated story of picking flowers. Again, if it had not been Emmett, he would not have believed it. That boy however had already proven himself to be weird enough to make searching for petals in the middle of a night in a desert a feasible thing for him. Perhaps it was better this way. If the day should come Othen found out about the truth... No.. Even Floure's charms on him would likely not protect her or any of the others from his outburst.

Othen was noone who put much effort into changing clothes between day and night. He stood up looking the same way he had put himself under his flysheet the evening before: Fur, leather and a considerable amount of bare skin that, if one looked closely, was taking a though minor amount of damage from the relentless sun, at least where it wasn't covered by his warpaint. Perhaps this decoration of his body was just a clever way to protect him without making it obvious ? But then it would have made way more sense to... well... take a bath in the color instead of putting so much effort into deploying it that way he had done.

When their lead explorer went ahead, he could barely convince himself to stay in line with the others. What the hell had Rook told those persons ? It could have been anything, including betraying all of them. The fact that there was an abundance of rumors about their leader didn't help in discarding this thought, but time had to tell. Othen soothed himself with thinking that if any slavers would come back to get them, he would just do and try what he would have liked to do just now with this more than suspect caravan: Attack, kill and crush them.

Then Emmett did something that actually managed to [i]worry[/i] him. Or no... Othen had started to worry about the boy since the moment he had seen his eye rings the first time this morning. What he was doing now however appeared more critical. Not that Othen would have been the one to decline rough body contact when it came to raging against someone - it were Emmett's words.

Othen got moving as fast as he could with his more than hulking body, approaching the two causing enough noise and throwing around enough sand with his feet that it probably would have sufficed for someone to notice him coming. He didn't rely on that however, but instead thundered towards the boy when he was already standing just two yards away from him: [color=f7941d]"Emmett! Stop it! Now!"[/color] He was ready. He would try and separate the two by the application of brute force if Emmett would not let loose immediately.