[ Her voice makes him jump just a bit. A spider...person? He'd never met anyone quite like her. Very proper looking, like in one of her many arms she would have a tea cup and in another, a good book. He turns toward her, the spiderwebs beneath his feet spreading slowly. Otus, not a heavyset individual, won't crash through yet, but movement spurs the thinning ice around them. His arms go out to his sides as he watches the small lines stagger away from him.
After remaining still for a few seconds, the lines stop, and he breathes out a sigh of relief. He nods at her question, still as a statue otherwise.
No swimming for him, thanks. He's not a great swimmer. ]
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After remaining still for a few seconds, the lines stop, and he breathes out a sigh of relief. He nods at her question, still as a statue otherwise.
No swimming for him, thanks. He's not a great swimmer. ]