for fear that the devil would chop off their heads

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In the silence that is now her world, she can still hear the whispering screams of those that fell to their knees before her. Even though her sight is gradually failing she will forever hold onto those memories of when she gave the people what they asked for; a snake, whom would swallow them whole. Some who cried, some who cursed, and yet the result was always the same. Her father who was surely one to brag about his prodigy and the spoils she gifted to him in those times. It was the people who made her and her father who kept that myth alive. An emblem of darkness and death that slithered along the bitter cold of her home, she is an unholy creation. One who now wanders without control, lost in her solitude where the whispers all but ease the comings of an end. For what use will she be when those deep blooded eyes no longer show her the path she needed to take?..

The darkness surounds her, comforts her in this out of place setting. She is finding the climate far more displeasing the longer she stays within this new world. The steady sound of her massive paws striking the soil, uncaring as she steps upon the twigs that had fallen with the heavy rain. Seeing no need to hide, perhaps the others should instead flee and cover. The sharp features along her colored face, denote her lack of feminine charm if anything she appears more male than female. From her sheer size to her harsh nature, she is the heir her father crafted with precision. And you can hear her from a mile away, as she moves throughout the woods with no true intent but a distraction in this rather bland world.

She stills, the steady rise and fall of her chest as a cold sneer creeps up the side of her lips as she looks down upon the murky waters before her. The smell itself causes her skin to crawl with distaste, for this seems like pollution to her crisp winterized past. As she once again begins to move, drawing her further from the swamps and more towards the center of the woods where there were plenty of dens to slither on in to without being compromised by the stench. A low and steady growl rolling from her lips as her agitation for this place further grows, the course hairs along her spine bristling with unease as she makes her own path through the woods. Knowing well that perhaps she was not the only creature whom dwelled in the night, just hoping none would cross her path lest they wish to collide with the beast.