It looks so small, so helpless. To the casual observer its body appears thin to the point of fragility, an overgrown slug that evolution gifted with speed to keep it safe. It sees you, and wraps itself into an incoherent jumble of curves and folds, like nature’s accordion bellows. It is still, closed, and appears overmatched. It is not. It is poised.
What you foolishly thought to be frailness, or smallness, was in fact a perfect killing machine. Like a modern hyper car, every single thing present went through a rigorous examination. Anything that added unnecessary weight or bulk was cast aside. Every muscle, every instinct, every tooth, every scale, was designed with one question in mind: Will this get me fed?
You don’t know it, because in your size and power you mistakenly view yourself as safe, but you are being viewed as prey. The stillness is about to be broken. The perfect balance, the closed position, was all preamble to an explosion unlike anything else in nature. It will come directly at you, and your brain will not register its beginning until well after it has finished.
It will happen with an acceleration twice beyond the tolerance of the world’s greatest fighter pilots. In less than 0.1 seconds, you are going to experience pain, and your assailant will be gazing at you calmly, ready to inflict more pain. That’s less than an eye blink.
Don’t blink. Hail The Viper.