The girl was strong, but Charik was, too, his human torso well-built and his snake-body that of a constrictor. It was a sleek, deceiving sort of strength that tended to surprise people, but it's what made him capable of slinging the girl over his shoulder and carrying her off to his palace despite her struggles. Alas, they always struggled, over-awed by his magnificence and fearful of touching a god, as Isi had once explained. So silly of them. Why would a god harm his subjects? Charik, at least, had learned how not to kill people upon contact.
He was certain he could unlearn it if he tried, but he never saw the need. Killing people was such dreadful business, and he was a gracious god, not a smiting one. He even explained this to the girl as he carried her, hoping to calm her. He didn't want to frighten her! She wasn't going to die; what use would she be to him dead? She was moving onto a much better life, serving her god in the flesh.
Didn't the villagers explain anything to these poor tributes? He would have to arrange a visit to the village proper sometime soon, both to correct their apparent misinformation and to scout for any other young, beautiful individuals that he hadn't yet laid eyes on. The tributes had been coming in less frequently.
It had taken some time, but they had eventually made it back to his palace. Moving swiftly, he carried the girl to an empty chamber and set her down, waiting as a servant lit the wall torches. The light revealed one of many bedrooms, a spacious, prettily decorated area that another of his harem had occupied once. Before they'd been lost to the snake beast.
Charik repressed a sigh of regret and turned his attention to the girl, her pale green skin and black, color-streaked hair giving her the look of some exotic bird or flower. When he saw her, he knew she had to be his.
"We welcome you to your new home, love," he said, reaching out to gently touch her hair, "and to your new life as our lover."
