There was something on her feet. It was hard to tell, but it made a sound when it hit her. The sound was sort of like a thunk mixed with a splat. The Spider Wraith looked down to see what it was. It wasn’t the right color, or the right smell, either. The hue was too dark, to the point where it was almost as black as a place with no light. It should have been white or grey. The body of the smell wasn’t full enough, like it was coming from something thinner and softer. It should have been harder to pick up on, in the same sense that it still seemed like what it should have been. Still, even with everything that wasn’t right about it, with all thing things that made it different than her version of the stuff, it appeared to be what it appeared to be. This tarantula spirit that she seemed to be involved with had just shot web at her feet, pinning her to the ground.

“That is some interesting thread you have there, darling,” said Miss Spider as she arched her back forward, “You know, at first I was curious, but now I have to know. What are you, Mr. Red Eyes?” And as she said that, she became more Miss Spider than before. By statement, she had sprouted more legs, and her limb count was up to six. By announcement, she had shown the last of her legs, and her limb count was up to eight. By question, her back legs had twisted, bone shifting and muscle moving, breaking her free of the web that bound her. By silence, her transformation was done, with her skirt hiked up and her neck craned back, all six feet on the ground and hands ready to guide her thread.

“Hsssssssssa…” the thing cried again. A beastly kind of hiss was what she heard, but it wasn’t a beastly kind of response. She felt it from the shadows, the emotional content. Perhaps it was daunted by her, tossing a thread and sticking to the wall like it did. All the same, if it didn’t stay in one place, there was no way she could find out what it was. With two eyes on the tarantula spirit and two on the way ahead, her legs kicked into motion. The speed she moved forward with was, for the most part, unique to her. She moved, clearing the floor, straddling the corner of the walls, rising to its position. Where was it? It was right in front of her. Churning up a thread, she scurried, as only spiders could scurry, forward, throwing hand at the ready. Too late. Another thunk-splat sounded, and the thing stretched all the way to the other side of the barn. Her hand may not have been able to catch up, but a change in position wouldn’t be enough to keep her from getting to it.

With a flex of the thigh and a bend of the knee, Miss Spider leapt from the wall. As she passed through the air, she raised her arm, drawing a strand of thread straight from her spinnerets. Thudding solidly against the opposite side, the Spider Wraith landed in what would have been grabbing distance, had the thing she wanted to know about not already begun to retreat. Regardless of its movement, it was within range of not only her web, but her sight as well. Black mask, red eyes, tan skin, another hiss, close to a tarantula spirit, but not exactly the same thing. Just what was it? Unfortunately, it was, if nothing else, something that caused her to hesitate. While she was caught in thought, it got farther away from her than she wanted it to go. Not wanting to loose anymore ground, she tossed her thread at it. A direct hit, justly reciprocated. She may have been able to snag one of its arms, but it found it easy enough to use its own thread to paste her feet to where they were.