Rolf was so focused on escaping that he barely had time to marvel at the spectacle unfolding before him.
"If this isn't a nightmare, I don't know what is", he thought, sprinting for his life.
He knew if he fell, he'd be bitten to death by the venomous snakes.
Never in his life had Rolf run so fast. He sprinted in the direction of the sound, desperation lending him strength.
Up ahead, perched in a peach tree like a guardian angel, sat Hedwig.
Her tiny fingers danced over a bamboo flute, its melody ringing in the charged air.
To Rolf and Misha, however, the "ding-dong" notes felt like a death knell tolling ever closer.
Snakes swarmed from all directions like a rising tide. Rolf knew if this kept up, they'd both end up as snake fodder.
Panic clawed at his throat. Without a word to Misha, he unceremoniously dumped her onto the ground.
Misha was still disoriented when she was roughly thrown to the ground. Before she could react, Rolf swiftly grabbed her head and slammed it against the earth.
Stunned and furious, Misha began to protest, "What are you doing?"
"Shut it," Rolf hissed, his voice low but laced with urgency.
Rolf's heart pounded as he stared at the nearby woods, the hissing drawing ever closer.
"Stop the flute!" he shouted. "She knows she's wrong—she'll never dare again. Call off the snakes!"
He knew their lives hung by a thread, dependent on the mysterious girl's mercy.
Turning to Misha, he hissed, "Beg for your life, or we're both dead."
The woods echoed with the snakes' hisses, each one sending chills down Misha's spine.
Misha's face drained of color as the reality of their situation crashed over her like a tidal wave. She'd never encountered anything this terrifying in her coddled life.
With no protective clothing and the thought of venomous fangs piercing her skin, she trembled uncontrollably.
Dignity forgotten, tears streamed down her face as she pleaded, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Please stop—I know I was wrong!"
But the snakes kept coming, undeterred.
Rolf, in desperation, grabbed Misha's high ponytail and slammed her head to the ground several times, pleading, "Stop this! If your mom knew what you're doing, she wouldn't be happy!"
As if on cue, the flute music screeched to a halt, and the snakes froze in place.
Yet the coiled serpents nearby still sent shivers down their spines— their scales glinting coldly in the sun, triangular heads raised high, tongues flicking menacingly.
Hedwig, still a child at heart, had always held Tabitha dearest.
Her first use of her mysterious power had been at just two years old.
Tabitha, gathering herbs in the mountains, had stayed so long that the beast-repelling powder on her skin had faded.
A hungry leopard seized the chance to attack from behind. Though Tabitha reacted swiftly, the leopard's claws left deep wounds on her arm.
Blood sprayed, splattering little Hedwig's face.
Witnessing her mother's injury, Hedwig's pupils dilated with rage.
Unbidden by any teacher, her fury summoned every creature nearby— snakes, insects, even birds descended.
The fierce leopard, caught in their united assault, was torn apart until only bones remained.
Tabitha wasn't frightened by the leopard's attack, but she was shocked by her daughter's mysterious powers.
Hedwig still clearly remembered the look in Tabitha's eyes back then—it was as if she were looking at a monster.
Although Tabitha immediately embraced her and gently comforted her, saying everything was fine, Hedwig still felt a pang of pain every time she recalled that look.
She knew her mother wouldn't want her to misuse this ability.
With this in mind, Hedwig began to play the bamboo flute again.
This time, the melody gradually softened, and the snakes, as if commanded, retreated like a receding tide.
The red serpent coiled at Hedwig's feet uncurled itself, lifting her gently from her branch.
As it slithered toward Misha, Hedwig leaped lightly to the ground, her bare feet barely making a sound on the forest floor.
Misha looked up, meeting Hedwig's emerald-green eyes.
Hedwig gazed deeply into her, a look that seemed to pierce through her very soul.
Misha trembled under that intense stare, feeling as if she were paralyzed by a cold snake coiled around her.
Hedwig turned and walked away slowly, the "ding-dong" sound of her bamboo flute ringing with each step.
Each chime felt like a heavy blow to Misha's heart, sending cold sweat pouring down her back.