I have been close to death many times throughout my life; whether that was getting peppered with bullets, falling from airplanes with only an emergency parachute, being stabbed in knife fights, and now I could count jumping from a waterfall as the things I shouldn't have survived but did. I barely remember the fall, it all blended into an impossible-to-decipher mixture of rushing imagery and feeling.

Isra had coiled herself around me during the fall and I felt the pressure over my entire body, like being enclosed in a straitjacket. But the impact was hard, even with the lessened surface tension in the landing zone, it was too much for the serpent to hold onto me. I had luckily avoided the gasp-reflex upon entering the cold water but the loss of orientation and pain from many points in my body had caused me to be unable to tell up from down. The white rapids let nothing below the water be distinguishable and I failed to reach the surface before I was violently dragged away from Isra.

I fought against the pull with all my strength, which was not a lot, all things considered. I was twirled around as if I was in a washing machine, pulled lower, and slammed hard onto a sharp rock with my back. The pain overwhelmed my mind's hold on my breath and I was forced to expel the previous air trapped in my lungs. The bubbles traveled upward and I finally knew which way I could swim in.

Increasingly desperate and closer to being unconscious by the second, I clawed at the water, kicked my feet frantically. My mind notified me of the CO2 buildup throughout my body then hit every possible alarm and heightened panic response, no matter how detrimental it would actually be to surviving. Still, despite my training, no matter my attempts at keeping a calm head, fear dug its cold, sharp fingers into me.

I kicked and threw every last ounce of strength at survival, looked up toward the surface, and hoped the light would actually meet me. But, with every passing second, the bright glow didn't grow closer. The water became colder, my body fatigued, and the very last of my air supply left in form of bubbles. Drowning didn't feel nearly as peaceful as I had expected it to be. My body resisted and my mind tried its very best, but it was all for naught.

And, as I made one more useless and unfruitful attempt at breaking the water but I was far too far away.

My mind retreated and my eyesight flickered. The last of my conscious thought drifted to Isra. I saw the snake in my mind's eye, heard her voice. I wanted to apologize to her, for so many things. I felt guilty for having condemned her, I was terrified by the prospect that she had done this out of hope to save both of us. If only I had some sort of confirmation that she was alive. She had taken the fall, tried to protect me by endangering her life.

Memories of our time together fluttered back in, warming and somewhat soothing. The way her smile went wide enough to see her gums, her smooth, interlocked, and beautifully colored scales, and the manner in which she talked to me. Instead of a forced confession about my past, she just offered to listen. In place of judgment and condemnation, she showed me kindness and understanding. And how had I repaid her? By treating her like every other person, like a piece of equipment, to be used until broken and then discarded. And I felt terrible about it every step of the way. Because, in truth, I cared about the snake. I cared about her more than I had managed to care about another human in my lonely existence.

And it was all about to end. I would never get to tell her this, if she lived she would only remember me as the person who treated her like shit and then died without any results. I would never get to explore her as a person, as a friend even. But did she even want that? Would she have considered me pathetic for wanting some sort of relationship with her, that I actually cared about her well-being? Would I be weak in her eyes, 'because I enjoyed some human contact...'

She wasn't human, and I knew that when I had said it. But she wasn't an it, not some alien monster, not a snake, either. She was more than that. She was better than the humans who would condemn her to be less than them, she was better than me. I wanted this to continue, desperately so. I wanted to talk to her, I wanted to tell her she was the best thing to happen in my life thus far.

But my body gave out. My mind was dragged, kicking and screaming, into deep, cavernous darkness.

Something grabbed my wrist, then another appendage wrapped around my chest and I felt myself be dragged in an opposite way of where the water was trying to take me.

I lost focus again.

"... don't leave me," I didn't recognize the voice at first.

I wasn't truly aware. I only felt the sudden and rhythmical compressions. I tried to breathe but failed to compel my mind into doing so.

But I felt the next part. A firm, cold object was pressed against my mouth. My unresponding head didn't figure out what it was but, as air entered my lungs after an indeterminate amount of time of nothing, my head finally responded.

Again, unaware of most things and with no concept of time. But I was alive.

Like sounding through glass, muffled, distant, and suppressed, I heard that voice again. Along with the steady, though lessening in intensity, pressure against my chest.

“Wake up!” Lower in volume than what it came out as.

I recognized the voice finally. Isra was yelling, weeping.

“...can’t!” She sounded desperate, out of breath.

I tried to breathe, I tried to respond, tell her it was fine. I didn’t like hearing the panic in her voice, especially since I knew she was the reason for it. But still, something blocked my airway. Trying whatever I could, I attempted to move whatever part of my body that would respond.

Then it stopped. The rhythmic compressions seized and I felt something land atop my chest.

“...without you...come back,” again, Isra’s voice was the only sensation I could make out.

The weight lifted and wet digits cupped beneath my jaw. The next sensation was strange; it felt like a kiss, the same interlocking of lips and following warm associations, the sudden feeling of intimacy. But also something else, thin, not nearly as soft, and far too wide to make for a regular seal.

And, with one final blow, of far too much air for my lungs to handle, my body’s gag reflex activated and forced me to draw a guttural inhale from deep within my chest. My entire body rose with the intake of air and my eyes tore open into blinding light. Dark clouds above were the only thing my mind processed.

But, as soon as oxygen entered, water made itself known violently. Before I could finish taking in the desperately needed air, my chest convulsed and I choked up on, I don’t even know how much, water. I doubled over onto my elbows and vomited the disgustingly warmed liquid onto a muddy underground.

Still lacking oxygen, and most certainly an involuntary panic-response after having lacked the ability to do so, I attempted to breathe in during fits of gurgling up more water than I thought I could even carry.

I felt all sorts of sensations, regaining the feeling in my extremities, finally making sense of the swimming mess of color and disconnected imagery. I was on the ground, which was mostly solid, my head spun, and my body felt unresponsive and sluggish. Wet hair clung to my face and all of my clothes were pinned against my body, while my boots had completely waterlogged.

I shivered all over and the adrenaline slowly subsided. With the increase in clarity came pain. I looked down to my chest and discovered the, still bleeding, wound on my right. I am unsure how it hadn't entirely pierced my lung, but I really didn't want to question the small amount of luck the universe had gifted me. The roaring agony at the top of my head made me wince, as it came and went in overwhelming waves-

Then I looked at Isra. She was also drenched, though her scales never let the water cling to her for very long. It was raining, I noticed at that point, and a loud thunderous crack resounded from relatively close by. Her entire body quivered and her expression was easily deciphered as absolute terror, though it slowly subsided into the most relieved look I had ever seen on a person.

“Are you…” Her voice was shaky, uncertain, and clearly afraid.

“What, what happened?” I wiped water from my face and tried to stay steady against the headache-inducing, and constantly shifting, surroundings.

She looked directly into my eyes. I could see so many emotions, so much clearer than normal, and they all spelled out the fear she had harbored and increased over the past minutes. “I threw us off the cliff. I thought I could hold onto you but I let go. You hit your head and, and I thought you were dead." I saw her eyes twitch.

This look of concern, all for me, I felt terrible for the way she was feeling. I wanted to apologize, tell her what I had thought about while I had been unconscious. But I felt myself slip further and further into a hazy mindset, this would have to wait. “I’m fucking cold."

Her expression finally softened a little and I was relieved that I had calmed her somewhat. She looked into the sky and adopted a more contemplative tone. “You’re also still bleeding, we need to get into cover,”

I followed her gaze and saw the sun behind the deep cover of clouds. Then I shifted back to the viper. She was bleeding also, orange in color and more fluid than the clinging red blood of humans. “Where is the backpack," I asked, noticing the lack of the rucksack anywhere nearby.

She immediately started apologizing, trying to explain how it was her fault, but I was barely able to keep my attention on her words. The blue eyes glowed so brightly, her scales became a mess of swirling colors and mosaic patterns.

"It's..." 'alright,' I finished the sentence only in my mind, as the world grew dark around my vision. I lost control over my body once more and collapsed, though I felt the serpent lunge at me moments before it all disappeared.

The loud, obnoxious rhythm of the then-popular song Moves like Jäger blared through the speakers of the bar. Intermingled with the voices of hundred, the stomping of people attempting to dance, most failing miserably at keeping even the most basic of paces going. Blue, white, and red floodlights were being waved around by either someone completely new at the job or a blind monkey.

"You've got the week off, enjoy yourself a little," I repeated in a mocking impression of the bearded man who had then promptly handed me 200€ and the keys to some hotel.

It was not the most terrible idea, given what had transpired the days before. A person, higher up in the chain than me, had made a bad call and our squad paid the cost. I glanced down at the extra padding on my chest, where the pressure bandage kept me from leaking blood all over the neon-blue bar. But the mixture of military-grade painkillers and liquor stemmed the pain I would have felt.

The aforementioned drink was served in a martini glass, had a greenish liquid inside, and came with two big ice cubes. I am not entirely sure what it was, just some German name that sounded of their famous Jägermeister. I tasted the heavily spiced alcohol and the feeling of numbing traveled down my throat. I didn't particularly like the taste but knew that the brew would get me wasted fast, which would have been relaxing.

"Guten Abend, was macht so ein schöner junger Mann alleine am Barstuhl?" A female voice asked from the side. I glanced up from my drink.

A young-looking blonde-haired woman in a golden dress sat directly next to me. A long window into her cleavage was clearly on display. I did speak German, at least a little, though my half-drunken mind failed to think in the language.

"I don't speak German, sorry," I looked away and to the colorful array of bottles, hoping the woman would just take my dismissive attitude as enough of a warning sign to stop whatever she thought she was doing.

"Oh, that's fine, I am a teacher," the heavily accented and plastered with numerous wrong pronouncements, especially the s, voice of that woman continued her barrage onto me. She sounded so adamant, interested in making random conversation - how annoying.

"Look, Ma'am, I am tired from work and I'm trying to just relax. I don’t have anything for you and you are wasting both our time," I turned to face her and made intense eye contact. Her eyes were a bright blue and her expression didn't shift once.

"Are you..." she looked into the corner of her vision, trying to come up with the word. "Schwul, you like men?"

I widened my eyes, the audacity. And nothing in her face betrayed if she was just trying to goad me into conversation; though that may have just been my intoxicated mind failing to see the obvious.

'Schwul, I knew the expression from my German squadmates.'

"I am not gay, nor do I want anything to do with you. Now leave me alone," I insisted and glared at her.

"I just wanted to know why you are alone at the bar, no need to get all offended. What are you drinking?" She leaned onto the bar, once again displaying the generous amount of chest openly through the V beneath her neck.

"I don't know,"

"Why are you upset?" She just didn't want to let it go.

'Because I just killed one of my only friends.'

"I'm tired and you are bothering me," I settled on a more socially acceptable response.

"I could help with some of that work stress, you know."

I threw a glance at the woman. Her posture was open and turned to me, her breath already smelled of alcohol and she wasn't particularly ugly, though I wasn't a fan of blondes.

"I thought you were a teacher," I said and raised an eyebrow.

"During the day, but I am whatever you want me to be right now," she leaned even closer.

I could smell her perfume and see the red lipstick, along with the make-up she clearly wore.

I didn't reply for a moment and let my view wander back down to my glass. My mind traveled back to the previous night, one of my first out-of-country missions and it had gone bad so fast. Spotted because they knew we were coming, our target had left hours before we arrived and we entered the building like a team of rookies.

It was a quick trap, open windows, and an insurmountable amount of shooters. The six-man squad had no way of fighting back so we ran. I got most of the way to the drop zone before I was hit. And in a scramble to get me to safety, the man I came to know as Echo was simply shot in the head in front of me. I saw the gore from his brain splattered against my gear and the wall we were next to, I had showered three times and still didn't feel clean.

The woman, whose name I don't remember, had continued to ramble, something about doing something for free and if I had a place to stay. I didn't even actually think about why I was doing what I was doing, maybe I wished for a distraction, maybe I just wanted to not feel so alone in my hotel room. But in either case, I turned the drink upside-down and emptied the devilish liquor down my throat.

I didn't leave alone that night and the hotel room was comfortable. The woman was energetic and wild, leaving me with scratches and bites. Luckily, she didn't feel the need to comment about my recent wounds or old scars. We made little conversation and slept in the single-person bed. I did enjoy her company more than I would have admitted back then, it was a break from the monotony my life was becoming. And monotony in a job that has you traveling the world and completing covert operations in the name of peace, should have been a scarcity.

Stolen story; please report.

Later that week, I was informed she was an escort, hired by one of my superiors. Just like for my squadmates, this was some sort of a reward for performing well. At the time, I didn’t think much of it, even enjoyed it. But, in hindsight, I was disgusted by it, disgusted at myself for taking these inhumane favors.

Slowly, pain made itself known in my mind and prodded against my unconsciousness, trying to get me to wake up. Unlike many times before, I didn’t wake up violently, didn’t feel the need to be ready to fight whatever was closest. I still felt on guard, but simply less so. I felt cold, just no longer freezing. I was soaked to the bone and cold wind blew into my face.

My body was pressed against itself tightly and the returning warmth from around me made me think I was wrapped in some sort of heavy blanket. I began to blink my eyes open, dispelling the blurriness of sleep and adjusting to the light.

It was still dark, though the sun had risen further into the sky. Dark, rainy, and storming clouds drew their shadows over the trees. A thick fog, like murky soup, swept across the thick bushes, painting them in glistening drops of condensation. The normal eeriness associated with this weather was simply not present, much like my ever-present sense of bearing conflict. It felt… safe.

Then, I noticed that my apparent blanket rose and fell in a calm rhythm, breathing. Then, my vision managed to acclimate to the lighting inside the hole I was in. Beneath a tree stump, the withered trunk blackened with decay, in a hole in the ground, I was coiled tightly into the viper's grasp.

I thought I would freak out, begin to panic and desperately try to break free. But I didn't.

My breathing remained calm, my heart did increase its pace, though only slightly. From the sole of my feet, heavy coils reached across my legs, then became thicker around my chest. Her weight alone did compress me, but it was obvious she had positioned herself to restrict me as little as possible. More of her tail reached around the hole and lined the walls, my head rested on one of those parts. Her torso was draped over my stomach and her long head winded over my shoulder, also coming to lay on one of her many coils.

With a slow, hissing sound, she exhaled and inhaled softly, her entire body lifting and sinking with them. And pressed against the side of my shoulder, rested her breasts. I quickly averted my gaze, the snake had stripped, her armor propped against the side of the tree. And, even with the fact that I really had no reason to be ashamed, as she lacked the distinctive features of a human woman, I could feel my face flush with red and my body heat rising.

She felt warm, her scales were imperceptibly smooth but still carried hard contours and sharper edges. Still pearling with droplets of water, her colors were highlighted beautifully. My arms were trapped to the side of my body but the coils were loose and I slipped from beneath them carefully. I didn't want to wake her up, she looked so at ease, no tension in the otherwise hardened muscle, her eyes closed and eyelids twitching slightly.

I noticed the red spot on my right chest and pried the torn cloth further apart. The wound was still fresh but at least didn't look infected, pain was present but lessened somewhat. The area around was crusted and had already begun healing.

I let my head fall back down onto the soft flesh of her tail and just stared at the ceiling. The dark allowed me to play imagery in my head. I saw Emir's face, heard the anger in his words, the conviction in his voice. He hated her, he saw Isra as nothing but a creature to be used, an animal without rights and wants. The man I had considered a friend for a long while had become nothing but another insane fanatic.

I turned to face the sleeping serpent, her head was looking at me at an angle. I inspected the white line of scales along her snout, it had been there before we had escaped together but hadn’t been present inside her cage, meaning it was obtained during her own escape. Still, there was no wound visible anymore, she healed very quickly.

Her tiny nostrils flared and her tongue slipped from the horizontal slit in between her thin lips. It lingered in the air, flicked up and down a few times, and then retreated. I just stared at her, maybe I was trying to trace the lines in between her scales, perhaps it was just the fact that I was so close to her that I could feel her breath on me, but I was unable to pull away.

And, for just a moment, I was terrified. I feared that this would all disappear in a moment, just like all my dreams. My dooming thoughts warned me that I didn't deserve this. That I didn't deserve to be treated with kindness, that I had used her thus far, and all I had done was put her in danger. I couldn't risk it. I could not hurt her more.

But, just to settle that this was not, in fact, a dream, I brought my hand up. I extended two fingers and lightly grazed her snout, feeling them gliding across the scales without any friction. Her eyes snapped open but I didn't flinch.

The blue orbs, the widened slits of vertical black quickly adjusted and shrunk down into thin, abyssal lines. The cracking color of bright blue seemed to glow, as she locked gazes with me. I felt her entire body shift and release the tighter grip she had held on my lower body. Immediately, she pulled back a little and brought her body into a leaning sitting position.

Her tail was still partly wrapped around me and I felt it shift all around me. The entire hole was outlined with her massive body, meaning that I laid atop her on multiple different parts.

“I-I’m sorry, we needed to share body-warmth and, and you were freezing, and I was so tired, and…” Her head flicked back and forth from my face to random corners of the all. Her pupils widened and I noticed her tail swaying up and down. At that moment, I had found obvious signs of embarrassment in her alien features.

“Hey, hey, calm down, alright?” I brought my own body into a sitting position, though mine was slouched and angled weirdly due to pain.

A moment of silence, in which her features softened slightly. Then, on accident, my eyes wandered downward for just a minuscule moment. Lighter in shade than the rest of her beige belly scales, bigger plates instead of the imperceptibly smooth scales, her breasts hung from the side of her shoulder more so than her actual chest, creating a bigger rift in between than what a human’s anatomy would allow for. The horizontally lined plates continued downward, creating the illusion of - or perhaps just emphasize - abs.

“I’m sorry, I took off my armor because I was soaked and needed to clean my wounds, I’ll put it back on right away,” she stuttered out and immediately spun away from me.

“You can stop apologizing whenever you want, there is nothing wrong with...getting comfortable,” I responded and returned my gaze to an appropriate eye level.

“I know that you are uncomfortable around me when I am not covered, that’s why I’m apologizing,” she explained and pulled the metal chest piece overtop herself.

“At least you figured out how to detach it by yourself,” I noted and leaned against the wall of the old wood.

“I had time,” she dismissed as I heard the latch on her back click.

“Where are we anyway?” I asked and took a glancing peek outside.

I didn’t recognize this part of the forest because I hadn’t been here before. The trees were thick at the base, like the wisps, but thinned out towards the top, where their main branch split into many different and smaller ones. The leaves were just beginning to pop in, green in color, long, and arrow-shaped. Many trunks retained their brown shades of regular bark, though it was obvious that many had died or were severely lacking nutrients, indicated by the blackened wood and decaying branches.

The tree we were beneath was on the larger side, reaching twenty, maybe twenty-five, meters into the sky. The base of the tree was mostly intact, safe for the hole near the ground, which dug into its root system. It seemed we had invaded something’s burrow, as the foliage made for excellent cover from not only sight but visual as well. Isra’s tail, most of which was spread out inside, still reached outside due to its enormous length.

“I don’t know. I carried you for an hour or so, but it was really hard to tell how long I was going for,” Isra explained.

I turned back with an intrigued expression. “You carried me for an hour, while you were injured yourself? After rescuing me out of a river?” I didn’t try to sound unimpressed, the snake had done so much for me.

“Yes, I suppose so. The way you say it makes me feel less bad about the fact that I just went to sleep right after I got here.” She rubbed the edges of her hood, another gesture I came to associate with general nervousness.

“Isra, you’ve done more for me than I could ever repay you,” I locked gazes with her. The next words, I had not said them truthfully for a very long time. “Thank you.”

She stared at me, her eyes flicking between mine back and forth. Something within her features shifted, her eyelids grew more narrow, the long lines of her dislodgeable jaw lifted upward, and her tongue slithered out very frequently. I couldn’t place this emotion, new and uncanny in its alienness, but also undeniably intriguing. I added this unknown expression to the list I was creating mentally, in hopes of getting a clearer example of what it was indicative of later on.

“That man, was that Emir?” She asked after shuffling her tail beneath herself.

“Yes, the others were also people I recognized. They must be here on some sort of initiation mission,” I theorized.

“They mentioned something about taking me, their commander being interested in talking. Do you believe that?” She sounded worried again, though not for herself.

“That they wanted you alive, yes, I believe that. But I severely doubt there was place for me in that plan, nor does it feel particularly likely that you will get a real conversation,” I replied.

“Then why did you offer to give up back on that cliff?” She asked, her tone serious though not challenging.

I knew the question would come up as soon as I had made the choice, not that I seriously expected to make it out of that situation alive. If I was put into a similar or the same position again, I would have acted differently, I wouldn’t have just given up like that.

“Because I thought it was the only way you would survive,” I admitted and let my view drift downward.

“And what about you, then? What did you think would happen to you?” She followed up. By the content of her questions, one could assume she was angry at me. But nothing in her voice spoke of that, instead, she sounded sorrowful.

“I don’t know. And I didn’t care.”

Her expression darkened. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. Her eyes mustered me, scanning my face, surely trying to read me in intention.

“Why do you keep trying to sacrifice yourself like this?” Was what she settled on. And she hit it right on the head. “Offering to stay behind to distract them, mislead them, accepting your fate in exchange for them taking me in. Why, Luis, why would you rather...die than fight?”

My posture sunk. I didn’t even try to fight it this time.

‘When did I lose it?’ When did my life go so horribly wrong that I decided that death was preferable over life? That I didn’t want to continue upon meeting enough resistance, that I didn’t fight? Surely, it had to have happened after the invasion, I was happy before...right?

I had enjoyed my time back then, I had taken pride in work, and I felt superior to others because of what I did. I got everything I wanted, more freedom than anyone could have dreamed of, never had to worry about money and the feeling that I was doing good with what I did. Hell, talking about certain psychologists’ views on how to live a satisfactory life, I had every aspect figured out.

And then I lost it. The invasion destroyed everything I had built up, tore down the old world structure which I had worked so hard to be on top of. I had lost many and killed so many more, seen things I still had nightmares about and obtained memories of sights others would consider the most beautiful places on earth. I had a life before Advent showed up. And I lost it all within less than a day.

“Luis, stay with me,” Isra’s voice reached my mind, which had almost completed its inward journey towards a goal I could not comprehend.

I shook and the world lost its unfocused blurriness, returning to the sight of the massive viper to my front. I was still impossibly taken aback by the snake’s calmness and patience. If one of my squadmates had acted the way I was, I would have cussed them out and made sure they knew of my annoyance. It was an enigma as to how and why she continued to be tolerant of these episodes.

“Why do you not care about yourself?” She repeated the question.

I looked into the top corner of my eye. It wasn’t that I hadn’t asked myself these things before, I had an answer. It was just something different, telling another person these things, admitting it. I don’t know why, but, saying them out loud made them real.

“Because I would rather die than just live.”

Her wrinkling expression spoke in the stead of words. But she noticed my weary tone, my serious look, she knew I wasn’t joking.

“Can you explain?”

I didn’t want to. But then again, I didn’t even want to say that first thing out loud. What more harm could I do with revealing even more about how I saw the world and my place within it.

“For the past decade or so, I have just been...existing. I had nothing to live for other than just the sake of living. And I did it all. I tried to make friends but I never got over myself. I tried to have fun but always found it exhausting. I...I tried to just exist and I failed at it. So, for some time now, I’ve lived with this illusion that I...that I…” The words froze in my lung, like a pack of dried oatmeal going down a dry throat. I couldn’t say it. It hurt to think about.

“That you, what?” She pushed further.

I wanted to be angry at her, angry that she was prodding so blatantly. But that was simply not true. If I didn’t want to talk, I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t even have started this subject. She was curious, curious about the cryptic breadcrumbs I was offering. And she deserved the truth.

I already had a lifetime of regrets, things I looked back onto with the knowledge of hindsight, with the ability to know that I had acted wrong. And I never saw those regretful moments coming, they were decisions of momentary reactions. Indecision or choice, either would lead to an outcome.

I saw coming that I could regret this, that I would look back on this silence with hindsight and kick myself for it. I didn’t want those regrets, I didn’t want to live with lies between Isra and me.

“I would have killed myself the day you attacked the camp.” My voice sounded monotone, distant, disconnected. Maybe it wasn’t even me who said that.

I couldn’t make out the details of her face, couldn’t gauge her reaction.

Silence, that lasted maybe a few minutes, an hour, or perhaps just a single second, befell us.

“Do you still feel that way?” Isra interrupted the noisiness of my breathing.

“Not entirely. Something has changed. My problem was that everyone was so... boring. I had a life many would consider interesting. Humans always seek some adventure, something to keep us occupied, and I had nothing but memorable experiences - even if some of them aren’t fun to remember. Then it just ended. Boom, the war happens and is over in a fucking week. And I’m left to sit on my ass for thirteen years,” I smiled while I said this, I don’t know why.

“You were unsatisfied with your life, one free from battle and away from death. You say you don’t like remembering certain things, and I can see how they’re affecting you, yet you say you also...miss them?” She asked, pausing to think of the appropriate expression.

I stopped. I missed those times, they are memories I had looked back on more fondly than not, but only during the times I consciously thought about them. Only, when I slept, or when a noise startled me like a rabid animal, did I see what those days truly did to me. They broke me with hardened conditioning, I could no longer look a person in the face and just take their word. I made plans to manipulate anyone around me and I stayed away from civilians . I just hadn’t tried to accept that I, too, now was a civilian.

“I suppose so,” I confirmed quietly.

“Well, do the recent events remind you of them?” Isra cocked her head to the side.

I brought my posture closer to myself, folding my legs overtop each other, rested my elbow on my knee, and leaned atop my palm.

"The monotony is certainly gone," I mused.

The serpent's eyes suddenly seemed to hold a spark of light, like an idea visibly going through her head. Then, the previously outward expression of compassion turned inward. Her features sunk slightly and her eyes stayed locked in a corner. I recognized this. She was making a series of logical conclusions, based of new information. I only watched, I couldn’t have stopped it anymore.

"Is that why you rescued me in the first place? Because you wanted something interesting to happen?"

I stayed locked within our gaze, though everything in my mind told me to look away in shame. This part, I had not considered before. I didn't want this to be true, I wanted to believe that I saw what happened in an objective manner, that I had some sort of moral high ground on the matter, that I was some sort of good person who just wanted to do right. But I am not a good person. And that hurt to admit, it still does.

I closed my eyes and responded quietly. "You're right."

Isra went quiet. Her eyes took on a sorrowful look, shifting down. The space between us seemed to grow a little further apart and the light turned darker.

“So that’s it. I asked before and I had hoped it was just what you said, that you were only curious and saw me for what I am. But that was never the case, was it? You were bored with simplicity and wanted to have a bit of fun, right?” Her speech was filled with uncertain emotion. But what stuck out to me was anger, it was the first time she sounded genuinely angry at me.

And worst of all, she had every right to be.

“I…” I blinked and stuttered, my mind struggling to find any kind of justification for my actions, some moral excuse I could bring up, not only for her but for myself.

I couldn’t have.

I liked her, I enjoyed being around her, I wanted to tell her that. I wanted to burst forward and admit that I could no longer just sit there and pretend not to revel in our interactions, that I preferred talking to her more than any human I had met in the past two decades. I wanted to show her that I cared about her, that she was truly important to me.

But it had started as something different, didn’t it?

No matter how I felt about her now, it wasn’t like that when I saw her in that cage. It wasn’t like that when she rescued me from the agents, and I had only tried to get rid of her for a long while at the hut.

She had grown on me, in many ways. But those conclusions only came recently, most were only now beginning to solidify.

“That explains what you said in the fishing house; that you never brought up the subject of our sentients. You were more concerned with the humans who were trying to take you in, despite everything we talked about.” Her eyes bore into me, I felt her gaze, heard her entire body shift, as if preparing to strike. This massive snake, agitated and very much capable of - even accidentally - killing me, was not threatening, however.

I felt sorry. Because I knew exactly where her influx of information about me would lead her.

“I-I helped you because I thought you had fought for us, I flicked you together because I believed it was somehow my fault!” Her tail beat against the dead wood with a resounding crack, which caused a widening splinter to travel up the tree. I didn’t flinch physically, but the gesture resonated within me, though it was not out of being scared.

“And... and I ate it all up, like the dumb beast that I am.” Her tone suddenly went somber, no longer aimed like a loaded weapon. Her eyes stayed locked on me but seized their intense, angry gaze.

I stayed silent, not daring to draw another breath before Isra did so first. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw her head turn away.

“Say something!” Her head snapped back and her words were more hissing the sounds necessary to form English, rather than the almost spotless speech otherwise.

And I flinched.

I don’t remember the last time that had happened. It threw me off, not her physical presence, no, she didn’t intimidate me, but her words. It was different.

I...Isra, I- I‘m,” I at least gained the strength to look back at her, seeing the wide eyes of the serpent. She wasn’t as animated as before, not as much anger in her features, rather, desperation. But I failed to respond. I had so much to say and nothing came out. I had to fix this, I had to tell her what I truly thought of her, not just let my silence draw the picture of some fucking sociopath.

I don’t know exactly how much time passed. But all I can remember was the blue eyes, carrying such wild emotion, not like a human. She was so much more than a human.

“You wanted to be alone? Fine.” She didn’t blink while speaking. “I’m getting some fresh air, I think that’s what I need right now.”

Before I could process what happened, the entire, gigantic tail pulled her out of the burrow.

And I just sat there. I just fucking sat there. I stared a hole into the wall where Isra had just been. Immediately, suddenly, this small hole in the ground felt lonely, empty.

I had fucked up. Right after I thought I had avoided regret.

Hindsight’s a bitch, right?