teach me, master

Spider doesn’t notice the woman at first, too focused on the prospect of a successful hunt that the fae goes largely undetected for several minutes. the squirrels chitter amongst themselves, bottlebrush tails flicking up clumps of snow as they scramble through the underbrush. Spider licks their lips, daring another step closer with their belly low to the ground. their dark colouring means they tend to stick out in winter, stark against the pale world, and they take extra care to avoid flat, open spaces. as they slink forward, however, a twig snaps underfoot - alerting their prey. Spider hisses in frustration as the squirrels freeze, heads snapping up to scan the forest. Spider remains as still as possible, scarcely daring to breathe.

naturally, this is when they notice the stranger; Spider nearly jumps out of their fur as they meet the woman’s bright green gaze, their own eyes widening in surprise. thankfully, the squirrels return to their foraging, and Spider relaxes some of the tension from their body. but now that they’re not in immeadiate danger of losing their prey, an embarrassed flush works it’s way up their neck at across their cheeks. this woman, skilled enough to have approached without making a sound, has witnessed their mistake.

"Speech"