004 Locks Picked

Jun 14, 2010 23:45

[anyone up late might find a small, pointy eared figure sprawled on his stomach in the 11th floor hallway, feet kicking lazily in the air, one hand stretched out on the ground in front of him.

Climbing over that hand is a stream of itty, bitty spiders. Chin resting on his arm, he's staring at them in fascination]

Goodbye?

But you just got here, didn't you? I think I'd remember seeing something like this, before. Unless you were hiding. Were you hiding somewhere?

[a few minutes later, as they just. keep. coming] There really are a lot of you, aren't there?

tasslehoff burrfoot, !spiders

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