The daggers fly. From the tongue of venom. Addressed at the maiden pure. Maiden has no reason to endure the taunts. Her eyes are shut tight. No desire to be blinded or bitten. By friends. Not really there. After all. Nobody shows a cobra care.
Hiding in trees while waiting to squeeze. Lunch with no breath. As he squashes to death The boa, not feathered. Ties himself up in knots.
But, not while he's shedding his skin. Dinner swallowed whole. Mind, body and soul. Only takes him a day or two. Sometimes a week to digest.
Adder's not an abacus. Another snake in the grass. Just like the rest. By ladylivvi1