I'm drawn to freaks and weirdos, the unconventionals and and the rebels. The ones that refuse to be ordinary and the ones that stand alone.
Emma would've never guessed that'd she be coming to the funeral pyre. 1) there's nothing to do and 2) there was a bunch a dead people. It would be cool if the dead people become zombies but she wants to stay alive. No, she wasn't here to create some street art (though that would be a cool idea) she was here to meet Rephaim, wherever he is.
But why would he sleep here? It's all cold, which is why she's wearing sweatpants and a red sweatshirt over her camp shirt, and mucky. Plus, sleeping on the ground would be bad for your back but she wasn't going to judge. Yet.
"Rephaim?" She whispered, poking around to find him.