“Zenta? You mean that weird furry beast? He’s probably being eaten alive by my spiders on his way to find you. Even if he did manage to get past the smaller ones, he’ll never find his way here. He’ll get tangled in my webs and feed my children just like the rest who try to pass the forest. This is my domain, little one, I know it like the back of my hand; I doubt he will ever find you. Once I’m done with you, you’ll just be a corpse hanging off my trees.”
“And who are you?” asked the Spider-Lady.
“As Zenta grew closer to the source of the smell, be began to notice thin webs hanging from the canopy, no doubt from the monster he heard about. In an elegant fashion, the beast would slip and sway between the hanging threads, mere inches from touching them but never did. Every time he came very close to touching one, the web would mysteriously move out of Zenta’s way, almost as if there was a force in play. It was as if a very gentle breeze would sway the threads from ever touching the beast. Except the breeze came from Zenta’s body.”
“As Zenta grew closer to the source of the smell, he notices the thin webs hanging from the canopy, no doubt from the monster he heard about. In an elegant fashion, the beast would slip and sway between the hanging threads; even when he was mere inches from touching them the web would mysteriously move out of his way.”