YES! Chapter 2. I know it's short, but there's stuff in there I wanted to upload as soon as possible, so here you are. If you have any suggestions, ideas, things you would like to see, or things to happen, please leave me a review, because I have some ideas but yours might be way better. Also, would you like Sherlock and John to stay drugged, or recover?
Sherlock pointed at the line of trees to their left.
"We go through the trees." He said, the delight obvious in his voice.
"The trees?"
"Yes, the trees. They're big floppy things with green leaves that like to-"
"Yes Sherlock. I know what trees are, thank you very much. But isn't there another way? A nicer way?"
"Nonsense, John. This'll be fun. Now come on!"
John glanced up from his sitting position and noticed that Sherlock had already started heading towards the trees in a slightly lop-sided way. He stood up quickly, a little too quickly, because his head started to swim slightly, and he let it sort itself out before rushing to catch up with Sherlock.
Sherlock heard John rushing to catch up with him, and smiled. He reached the first tree, and touched one of its leaves. He could feel the strange drug in his system, overwhelming his senses, loosening his grasp on what was happening, but he let it. One of the first things it did was stop you wanting to fight against its effects, and Sherlock was perfectly happy to let it do that.
John finally reached the tree line, after stumbling over some purple creases in the ground that seemed to pop up out of nowhere. He thought this was a bit questionable, surely purple creases didn't just appear in the ground like that, but he decided to leave it. Purple creases had a right to do what they wanted, didn't they? He shook his head from the misty fog that had settled over it, and rested for a moment against a tree.
"Sherlock, what are you doing?"
It was, in fact, perfectly clear what Sherlock was doing. He was attempting to walk through a clump of Pampas Grass that had sprung up out of seemingly nowhere. Why was Sherlock attempting to walk through a towering clump of Pampas Grass that was some 3 meters high? It wasn't even in their way! He asked again, but Sherlock was too absorbed in attempting to walk through the plant.
Sherlock was determined to walk through the tropical plant that had happened to challenge him, and subsequently ignored John's calls for an explanation. He was going to walk through this clump of grass-like plant and come out triumphant on the other side. He could feel the grass brushing against his bare arms, but he didn't care, even when the brushing became more of a biting or slicing sensation. Sticks and Stones, Sherlock. Sticks and Stones.
Sherlock finally managed to pull himself through the large plant, with a look of exhausted triumph on his face. His normally tediously tidy hair was ruffled and specked with blades of straw-like grass and feather like leaves. His arms were slightly scratched, and so was his face. His trousers and shirt were crumpled and covered in bits of grass, and one of his sleeves had a small rip in it.
"Why?"
"It challenged me."
"It challenged you?"
"Yes. A gentleman never starts a fight, but he always ends it."
"Wait, wait, what? Where did that come from?"
"John, stop asking stupid questions, you're wasting time!" and with that, Sherlock walked off into the treeline.
"Sherlock, you walked through a plant that wasn't even in our way!"
But Sherlock ignored him, and John had to run to catch up to him. John attempted to walk alongside Sherlock, but his stride was too long, so he found himself lagging behind.
"Sherlock, wait up!"