Arachnis Maleficarum
In the midst of shadowhunting with a friend, we found a hive of spiders. The queen laid her eggs in the mouths of her consorts, of which two were steady; fighting for supremacy and primary but always for the queen, at the ready. Rogue insects would disturb the hive; those that survived, were perhaps more symbiotic that initially spied. Those poor bastards that died, were snacked and digested with much delight. 'Twas a blight, this mound and den. I saw the queen's underbelly, and then, at the sight of tender pink flesh, I stayed my hand.
Perhaps now, having allowed silken strands of puppetry to wrap themselves around lightly, I should have obeyed the initial urge? It matters not. To put a small hive out of it's misery when this wolf is too busy running from the flood that's coming? Waste again, of energy.
Perhaps now, having allowed silken strands of puppetry to wrap themselves around lightly, I should have obeyed the initial urge? It matters not. To put a small hive out of it's misery when this wolf is too busy running from the flood that's coming? Waste again, of energy.