If Corbin Crowley was born in modern times, he'd probably blurt out something like, "Guys like that should've just been monks or Taoist priests."
Rhys Blackwood was sitting cross-legged by the campfire, laid out a big beast skin on the ground, and motioned for Luna to come sit.
Luna smiled, didn't refuse, and sat down naturally.
The eight little snakes immediately slithered over and cozied up beside their "dad" and "matron."
The witch doctor slung his beast skin bag around and handed everyone a herbal pill. "Eat up, it's for snake venom prevention."
Malachi Arcanus caught the pill, tossed it in his mouth, raised an eyebrow at Rhys, "Your Black Serpent is surprisingly thoughtful, eh? Afraid we'd all drop dead from poison if we tag along."
Rhys couldn't be bothered to respond. He just sliced off a chunk of meat, roasted it over the flames until golden and crispy, the aroma wafting, then passed it to Luna.
