We. He wouldn’t be the one spinning the web, but he was going to do the actual carrying of the net. Dragging. Whichever one he did. “Sure.” She replied easily, a small acquiescence. A little cooperation ought ot go a long way. And maybe this was the start of him making up for the events of last night. Just the mental reminder on her own made her jaw clench. She would put the memory of it behind her to get through this leg of their little mountain trip.
The spider kept her face as blank as she could. Neutral. This was nothing more than a menial task. There really was no need for her presence, but if he wanted to make the most of it — so be it. She walked behind him, strides smaller than the usual. Would he worry with her behind him, capable of turning back around? She might be faster. She rubbed too legs together, sniffed. She’d not paid attention before, but he smelled like mutt. Not mutt — dog? Something canine. Maybe that was what had made him seem so much like a predator. Or like a dog with its tail tucked when he’d first interacted with her.
She tipped her head to the side, and considered him. She had seen her fair share of dogs, wolves — four-legged creatures. She certainly respected them more than she did those with two legs. They were loyal, from what she could recall. Terribly good sense of direction. Some of the hunting parties that had come to take her family had dogs with them. Hunting dogs. They’d been tough; all that muscle from constant work made them tighten up when cooked. Nnerka licked her lips. They’d been delicious, regardless.
Rickter would likely not be the same.
He stank of magic. That changed meat, she was sure. She’d rather not dirty her tastebuds with him. Lips tugged down into a scowl, she watched him work. Her fingers started up the web as he’d suggested before as easily as breathing. They knit themselves together, pulled apart. Threads formed at the tips, lengthening as she made them stick to others. Soon enough, the net he had wanted would be fully formed.
“How much wood are we getting?”
The spider kept her face as blank as she could. Neutral. This was nothing more than a menial task. There really was no need for her presence, but if he wanted to make the most of it — so be it. She walked behind him, strides smaller than the usual. Would he worry with her behind him, capable of turning back around? She might be faster. She rubbed too legs together, sniffed. She’d not paid attention before, but he smelled like mutt. Not mutt — dog? Something canine. Maybe that was what had made him seem so much like a predator. Or like a dog with its tail tucked when he’d first interacted with her.
She tipped her head to the side, and considered him. She had seen her fair share of dogs, wolves — four-legged creatures. She certainly respected them more than she did those with two legs. They were loyal, from what she could recall. Terribly good sense of direction. Some of the hunting parties that had come to take her family had dogs with them. Hunting dogs. They’d been tough; all that muscle from constant work made them tighten up when cooked. Nnerka licked her lips. They’d been delicious, regardless.
Rickter would likely not be the same.
He stank of magic. That changed meat, she was sure. She’d rather not dirty her tastebuds with him. Lips tugged down into a scowl, she watched him work. Her fingers started up the web as he’d suggested before as easily as breathing. They knit themselves together, pulled apart. Threads formed at the tips, lengthening as she made them stick to others. Soon enough, the net he had wanted would be fully formed.
“How much wood are we getting?”
