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Summary
With a sigh and the final pop of your laced fingers, you turn to your discarded linen shirt, only to find an unexpected visitor seated upon it like a king on a throne, staring at you with beady, slightly unsettling eyes.
Your initial reaction is to flinch away.
The grass snake raises its crowned head, alarmed by your attention, if not your presence.
Perhaps you were truly born cursed.
A mortal catches the eye of a lesser deity.