The Dancing Viper - Bust

The jungle breathes, and its breath is poison.

Deep in the vine-choked wilds, a forgotten temple festers beneath layers of rot and scale. Once the seat of a serpent-worshiping empire, now it is the lair of something far older. The ground coils beneath your feet. The rivers hiss. And the locals speak only in whispers—of drums in the dark, of eyes that never blink, of the hunger that waits below._

The serpent is not just a beast. It is the land. The temple. The dream. To enter is to be swallowed. To leave… is a story few can tell.