*the spiders sigh and almost put back on the scarf, but suddenly decide against it and leave it in the meadow where still, so faintly it could only be felt and not heard, it continued to echo softly two words, never getting louder or quieter, always just too quiet to hear, but loud enough to know. "Still alive. . . . "*

I guess that's it then.

Almost a shame I didn't die.

*The tarantulas break up from eachother, separating from their humanoid form and gathering into a circle, where one large one carefully removes the glowing blue orb of its soul and throws it to the ground where it smashes to pieces, each one flying into a spider where it settles.

All of the spiders then go their separate ways, all but the big one, who simply sits in the clearing.

There, maybe the colony will reunite eventually.

*The spider looks around at the area, eventually picking up a twig for a walking stick and wandering away on only four legs, two holding the stick and the other two hanging freely*

~Once.

Formerly, the soul of Poecilotheria metallica