"No thanks, I'm--" Presbyterian? Driving? "Well... hang on." Abbey scratched her neck and scanned their surroundings, making sure nobody was around. She found the scenario disturbing but Abbey had to admit her fascination, too. What was the big deal? Native Americans were cool. It could be like a cultural exchange, where she had California to offer and Crazy here had animal sacrifice. Hadn't Abbey done adventurous things in her time? Zip-lining? Jell-o wrestling? Nude bungee jumping? That one hurt.
"Alright I'm in." She licked her cone and tossed it, wiping her hands on her jeans. Elbows flexed, Abbey waited for instructions, wind flapping her turquoise spaghetti strap top. Up close, the snake smelled like musk. Or maybe that was Nalia. "What do I do?"
Upon reflection, Abbey realized she had nothing to offer except the Lord's prayer and dribbling some water on it. Maybe she could draw a cross in the dirt.