This lady with the lower half (half? Far more than half) of a snake leans close to you, and you lean back, though not nearly as much as she leans forward. You think the jungle heat is increasing until you realize that’s you—you’re blushing like a rose, between this beauty so close and—her scaly tail around your . . .
You pull her tail off you and turn away. She giggles and slides around to keep herself in your sight.
“I don’t mean to be intrusive, Human,” she says, “but you looked so lonely and crestfallen down there.” She gives you another smile—not hungry, not pitying, just kind—and softly says, “I thought maybe you could use some company.” Her tail slides around your shoulders. It’s gentle and alluring, but you push it off and turn away with a huff.
“Sorry, but I just want to be alone right now.” You hop off her tail onto the branch.
“Aw, now . . .” The lamia slides around you again. “Come on. Let me look at you.”
Your eyes widen from a look at the lamia’s eyes. She’s looking intently at you, her eyes boring into yours, loops of color sparkling from her eyes. It’s really quite pretty . . . beautiful . . . enrapturing. Do you let her look at you with those swirling eyes?