I always love snakes, until I work up with one in my bed. I fell for the lies, the promises.

Sure, I trusted him, despite all the signs to the contrary. Something about the way he spoke, the worlds he used; the talk of adventure and really wild things. I bought it all. It was like magic, I was enchanted.

So we got together. We plotted, we planned. Mischief was our calling. Oh, the fun we had! The chaos. I never wanted it to end.

Then he suggested camping, to a secluded forest few mortals dwelled. I was drunk with curiously, and smitten by it all.

It was beautiful, serene, and a welcome respite from out journeying. I remember that last night all to well.

I was tired, a deep fatigue that I felt in my very bones. I retired to my bedroll, and was asleep before I hit the pillow.

I awoke.

Alone.

Except for one very pissed off copperhead staring at me.

Yeah.

Nice prank.

How the Hel do I get out of this one?

Hmmm.

Let’s see.

poke, poke

Aw, shit. It’s a real snake.

Ouch.