“Pretty big for a fruit fly,” he says slowly, though then again, he can’t really afford to judge. He’s seen some weird shit since ending up here, and even before then. It’d be stupid to start drawing arbitrary lines in terms of believability now.

“‘Cause this thing is pretty pissed, and I think we’d be better off - ” He breaks off as the spindlank surges for the pair of them anew, apparently bent on taking one or both of them down with it. He starts scrambling backwards at once, one hand splayed our to try and herd Myia away - however necessary or unnecessary that might be.