Rattleskin Redoubt picea

The snake twisted beneath his paw. Aquillius turned his gaze listlessly to the twisting, horrid thing. Muscle, sinew, bone, wide eyes that stared back at him.

Yellow lifted again from the snake, now coiled desperately around his foreleg in some attempt to either climb him or get away. Germanicus spoke of needing somewhere to stay.

She knows of the canyon. The eye left again, back to the snake.

She may bring the creek down on our heads. She’s bewitched them, you know. As though he was speaking merely of the weather, even with the hissing thing beneath his foot.