The desert consumes all. Good notions. Friendliness, kindness, mercy.
Mako walked quietly, the sun above a constant reminder of his terrible decision. The heat was bad enough that Mako's desperation knawed at him constantly. It wasn't usual for him to want so bad for something, but water sounded like a good idea. Unfortuantely he was forcing himself to move without it. Conservation was key.
People say desperation brings out the worst of people. Mako knew this to be true. He sighed, looking out at the desert, a sudden blast of sand knocking him on his face. He felt his water being taken instantly, and shot to his feet. An older man, obviously an Earthbender, as Mako was knocked down by a wall of sand, was running off across the desert, laughing at his victory. The desert itself seemed to give the old man speed, and Mako was soon left behind.
He didn't slow down, however, he just kept running, sprinting to find the man. The heat made his blood boil, and the anger only made it worse. He travelled through the day, the lack of water tearing at him. Evening was upon him when he found a small, half-buried house. He didn't hesitate, but kicked the door open, and lunged inside, slamming the man who'd left him to die. Mako's throat was dry, although he had managed to get a pretty nice tan.
The old man released a terrified squeak. Mako swallowed hard, desperately trying to wet his throat. "Do you...realize I almost died...trying to find you?" The man cringed, "It was just a little water..." Mako sneered, "A little water? A LITTLE WATER!?" He grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and lifted him, slamming his back against the wall. He could feel something dark gripping at his mind, clawing it's way in. "Where is it?", he asked. "The water?", the man replied. "YES!", Mako yelled. "I-It's in the room, just there...b-but you don't understand, m-my granddaughter, she's ill, she was dying..." Mako hardly heard any of the old man's words.
He pushed the door open, and froze, there, sitting in a chair, was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the most sickly girl Mako had ever seen. Her face was pale, and her eyes sunken, she resembled a skeleton. She looked up, and for a brief moment, their gaze's met, and Mako recoiled, feeling as if her pain was latching onto him. He stepped back and out of the room, stumbling outside. The old man didn't try to stop him, but his words pierced like a dagger, "You're hotheaded, just like every Firebender..."
Make stumbled away from the house, the setting sun glaring down at him. He stared out at the vast expanse of the desert, this place...truly is a killer.
