The Spider is only afraid of one thing.

One thing only,

It spins its web hopping to never see its prey leave, spinning the thread like silk from a loom. It shudders to think what would happen if it broke and its prey to flee.

It repairs the broken parts, and repairs the ones that aren't. It cheaks and double cheaks the area for any humans that could break it. Like a child under a bed's covers trying to hide from a monster, it creates walls of stories as a shield.

Of the Spider being deadly.

The Spider being crafty and cunning.

With the Spider that was immortal.

Forever weaving and forever scared that it will not be able to run and hide away from what it fears most.

Because the Spider is afraid of one thing.

One thing only.

It is afraid of the feeling of wind curved below wings soaring eternally into the endless sky.

Of the stars impossibly far away with impossible life that is possibly there,

because the Spider fears one thing,

And one thing only

It fears the mother, protecting her two children, giving them the love to create and explore as they wish.

It fears the warrior with nature on her...