Where the Wild things are

their second birthday has come and gone, and a newly-adult Spider pads into the meeting with tired eyes and a sullen mask. they never imagined it’d be like this, that reaching maturity would feel so bleak and lonely. despite their friends in the Armada, they feel like a bubble of solitude has formed around them, visible only to themselves. ordinarily, Spider would sit at the front of the crowd, eyes trained dutifully on Bas. but today, they want only to avoid attention, so they settle at the very back of the group, averting notice with slumped shoulders and lowered eyes. the prospect of a raid doesn’t invigorate them like usual - though they’re not opposed to it, either. rather, they feel…nothing. they’re empty in the middle, scooped out and hollow. they try to summon it, just a glimmer of enthusiasm on behalf of their pack…but it’s fruitless.

"Speech"