Deep inside Genma there was a small but very important part of his soul doing the tiny-rodent-facing-giant-predator dance. Eyes as big as saucers, tiny paws shuffling in impotent panic. The majority of Genma's soul, however, was taking the other role of said rodent, staring at the hypnotically swaying and magnificent hooded snake and thinking, So pretty. So pretty. I could watch it forever.
Genma felt utterly at ease, though oddly sure that he was only one step away from a gruesome and ignoble death. And it didn't faze him a bit.
"There are rules? Like actual rules?" He sounded incredulous and relieved all at once. "Oh thank fucking god. This place has been absolutely destroying my sanity."