This is going to be extremely important in a moment, so it is of vital importance that you remember it well.
Ruby "Roundhouse" Rogers, Killer of Men, does not, has not, and will never, do snakes.
It wasn't a conscious decision, nor was it some kind of phobia explained by childhood experiences.
Well, there was that one time that Margaret Westwood put a garden snake in her hair in second grade, but she had promptly broken the other girl's nose, and that had been the end of it.
The point is that Ruby didn't do snakes. She just couldn't.
Fact of life.
The sky is blue.
The grass is green.
Ruby doesn't do snakes.
That included being near them, seeing them, hearing them, touching them, or even imagining that the slithery bastards might be out there somewhere.
Yes, Macy Howard from fourth grade, just fucking try that shit with me.
Showed her.
Fucking pranks.
Not cool.
Anyways.
So when she found a horribly vicious and evil looking serpent slithering through her tent late one night (or was it early in the morning?) Ruby found herself wondering if it was really a smart idea to only keep one sawed-off on her person at all times.
Several well-placed blasts tore through the snake. The opening flaps swung wildly as Smolder shot in like a bullet, one hand holding a machete and the other a boomerang. A lesser woman would have snickered at the mental pun, or god forbid, spoke it aloud, but Ruby was no lesser woman.
She was completely composed, cooly staring down the villainous creature.
Ruby calmly reloaded the shotgun, ignoring her newest guest. Smolder was looking around the tiny space frantically, trying to find the reason that level-headed-Ruby had resorted to quite literally spitting lead.
When she let out another chamber into the malicious beast, Smolder caught sight of her prey. He actually groaned, rubbing his temples and looking pointedly anywhere but at her or the snake.
Honestly, they were just begging for tinnitus at this rate.
The others moved around in their tents. Mouse was wide awake, sprinting out to aid in whatever crisis. Seaplane rushed as well, Oberon lagging behind as he stifled a yawn.
Smolder didn't look at any of them.
Ruby raised her arms in a placating manner.
"Everything is under control." She spoke calmly. "The transgressor has been dealt with."
She calmly stepped forward and knelt to cradle the monstrosity in her hands.
Mouse let out a strange, almost strangled, noise when he saw what was in her arms. Seaplane stared blankly. The Professor patted his tentmate on the shoulder reassuringly.
The next day, Mr. Princely McSwizzles had a three-hour-long visitation, two-minute-long cremation, and a half hour feast of grilled snake in his honor. Ruby attended each event, passing around small pieces of torn shirts that may or may not have once belonged to the good Doctor Bravestone.
