Silvertip Mountain small lives small lives small lives

The creature who finally approached her was tall, sinewy. Draped in white.

The rattlesnake did not care for his height, his muscles, his anything.

This was for the small gods.

Her ultraviolet eyes watched as he came close, and she let out a smoky chuckle in response to the question.

Same thing you are. Little smaller. She drawled, kicking out her back legs in a relaxed posture.