Snake on the path.

Wandering the paths in the southern forests of Levis was always a dangerous idea, but if one was careful and quiet, you could get far indeed. It was colder here than up in forests closer to the equator up north, and the air was almost moist with dew.

Thorold Mistweaver was here to find a rare flower, that he had been told had been discovered through the use in a local delicacy, and was on the hunt to find its source and catalogue it for his guide to the flowers of this region. The ecologist had learned to move quietly, breathing slow, and eyes peeled for any of the creatures within this part of the deep forests. Even the birds are quiet here, their chirps dulled as they rest in the smaller trees, well within reach of any predator looking for them.

Which is why Thorold curses inside when they see the snake hanging from a draped vine, twisted in its deep yellow and navy blue scaling stripes. Its thick hood fans out as Thorold stops and it turns its head towards him. It, she, arches that head and a thick tongue rolls out, fat with a heavy jaw and small teeth, but a massive hiss forming in her throat.

"Leave." She spits at him, and Thorold hears the voice, low and quiet, both hating that she has to make such a noise today.

"Let me pass, I mean you no harm." He replies, barely breathing the words, but still flinching at the loudness in the quiet. They both hear a rustling and look towards it. After moments of calm, they turn to look at each other again.

"This is my path, take another." She says, uncurling slightly, until serpentine length faces him. She looks about a metre long, and her emerald eyes watch him. He does not question why she is able to speak - witch curse, warped bloodline, or monster birth matters not, just that she is making noise and he needs to pass.

"Another path is too risky, you know this, let me pass and I will return with your supper. What do you eat?"

She considers him carefully. "You would hunt for me?"

"I would trade for a way past."

---

The next day he meets her further south, two mice bound in twine, offerings - one for yesterday, one for today. They are in an area that feels much safer, and so they talk normally this time. "Is this too much, miss snake?" Thorold says, dangling both mice by their tails. "This is enough, though I will need to find safety lest I be too full to run from danger. Tell me, that pack looks empty today, what must I do to nest there for the day?" She slides from her vine, over the back of his neck and down his arm to look him in the face with interest, even as the mice squirm in his other hand. "Do you know the flowers of your forest? Could you guide me there?" Thorold tries his luck, a guide might take days off his hunt and let him go back home without finding any threat. "Flowers interest me not. But I could guide you to where they could be. For the nesting in your pack." Thorold grins as he feeds her one of the mice. "You have done this before." "Once or twice. But a feed is a feed."

---

"There are towns near here, you would be able to travel there and be safe from the forest." Thorold says after some time, feet steady as they head down the rocky incline, each step almost up to his knee as he is forced to go slow now. The snake watches his progress from the pack, head lazily over his shoulder. "Why would I? Your kind balks at the hunt when I mention it often, and it is only the desperate who work with me." Thorold considers this, and realises that many would see this lady-snake as outside the weft of the world, not within it. "Many are stupid, the weight of the world is built to have a snake in it, especially one of good company." "You are odd, flower-man. But you keep your word."

---

Neither snake nor man work out when they agree to travel together, but as Thorold heads north with his guide to the flowers of lower Levis, a lady-snake lays atop the binding, warmed by the heat pooling off the circuit spell woven within. Mice and lizards would be tricky to find in the cities and towns, but both enjoyed the other's company, and a good guide was always valued by a man such as Thorold.