A Story.

Have I ever told you the story of the viper and the rooster? No? Well set yourself down.

Once, on a farm between nowhere and anywhere, there was a rooster. This rooster was a standalone kinda bird. He'd perch himself on different posts along the fence and watch as the other animals busy themselves and work about their daily lives on the farm. I'm not saying he was a loner, but he would never stick his wing in another chick's (or hen's) beak. He'd shout out 'Good morning' to everyone as loud as he could, every morning; for it was his nature.

Then, on a star speckled night when the Rooster visited the river, he encountered a viper. The viper greeted the Rooster--but the rooster was wary, for he knew of the viper's venom. The rooster told the viper to keep her fangs away, but the viper assured the rooster that her fangs were dull and wouldn't be able to pierce a leaf. So the Rooster relaxed and he didn't retreat. He enjoyed the Viper's company, they were suited to match. But time didn't slow its march, and as the sun crept off, the Rooster had to make his way back to the farm.

"Will I see you again?" Asked the Rooster.

"Definitely," retorted the Viper, "but first I'll make sure you get home safe and sound." And so they slithered and trotted; all the way back to the wooden fence of the farm, opposite the chicken coop. The Chickens saw the Viper, and they were scared.

The next morning, before the sun rose, the Rooster walked away from the farm, towards the river once again. He hoped to find the Viper, but she was not there. The Rooster's orange eyes wept and wept, his tears being carried off by the uncaring river. The Rooster waited and waited, but he was disappointed, and heard not the voice of the Viper. He went back to the farm, his feathers dragging behind. Upon his arrival, the Chickens glared.

The next morning, before the sun rose, the Rooster walked away from the farm, towards the river once again. This time he ran with anticipation, and she was there.

"Why did you not come again the day before?" Asked the Rooster, seeking relief and sound thoughts once again.

"I had not the chance." the Viper replied.

But while the Rooster was happy with the Viper, he was often caught staring at the uncaring river, with a look too morose to bear.

"Why are you sad?" asked the Viper.

"Because the day will end, and I know not about time." replied the Rooster.

The Viper contemplated, and then she spoke, "Then here, let us drink, as a promise to the walking sun."

The Viper and the Rooster drank from the uncaring river, but the venom from the Viper's glands was carried down to the beak of the Rooster, and the Rooster coughed, splattering blood. The Viper was shocked and still with fear.

"How'd I get poisoned if your fangs are dull?" asked the Rooster, his speech slurred.

"The venom leaked out from my glands!" cried the Viper.

But the Rooster made no reply.

The Viper cried and cried, so hard and for so long that the venom was cried through her eyes 'till there was no more venom to be taken by the uncaring river, 'till the viper turned white. As the walking sun made 400 journeys, the Viper shrunk as leaves shriveled, the Viper grew frail as ice thickened, the Viper grew wings as flowers bloomed and the Viper took flight as the sun shined. One never steps in the same river twice, and the Butterfly never became the Viper again.