“Oh my god, oh my god, ow, this really hurts!”
Phaeral’s face was flushed and his eyes were wide and frantic as he struggled in the grip of the giant snake. If someone had told him that morning that a giant snake was going to squeeze the life out of him later that afternoon, he would have laughed.
The snake was not slimy, as he imagined, but rather, smooth and warm. Its scales felt like iron, hard and unyielding. Already he could feel his chest compressing with pressure.
His eyes flew to Brunhilde and Ashleigh, silently beseeching.
He struggled to get out of the snake’s grasp, trying to slip free from its coils. Phaeral was leanly built, with a wiry frame and lithe muscularity. His best chance was to wriggle away, rather than try to break the snake’s hold.