They walked in silence along the dirt road. The pathway had become more a mixture of mud, rocks, roots and creeping vines. There was the occasional whole where stagnant water lay. Morrigan helped Carol maneuver over holes that would take out any would be hiker. But all these movements they did in silence, under the watchful eyes of gnarled trees that stood like sentries on either side of the pathway. There were no sounds in the underbrush nor the whistling of a breeze through the leaves.

  Just utter silence. A silence that left Morrigan with her thoughts for perhaps a half hour or more. Morrigan’s earlier outburst of disgust had rattled Carol. Morrigan had no interest in being the friend of a well-to-do narcissist. She had enough not-so-well-to-do narcissist in her actual family. A lifetime of dealing with those sorts of antics was behind her and she had little interest in dipping her toe back in that acidic pool of emotional negligence, manipulation and abuse.

  But she was not interested in hurting anyone’s feelings, either. Morrigan had a penchant for being misunderstood, often like at the start of this journey with Carol. Over an hour into their trip, she had suggested they just go back. That this wasn’t an idea and the benefit of continuing wasn’t worth the cost.

  Carol took it as Morrigan didn’t believe in magic or that she thought the woman was crazy. That was not true, nor what she was getting at. She just thought at their rate they’d might be late. And even worse, Carol might get seriously hurt given her poor outfit choice.

  That misunderstanding was all on Carol, who chose not to give Morrigan the space to explain. Morrigan was accustomed to those stubborn, self-righteous, and ignorant behaviors. Morrigan’s response was logical one after saving the woman from nearly falling again. And just because the woman was in a hightened emotional state didn’t give her the right to add more meaning to Morrigan’s words that she had clearly been intending.

  Nope. That was all on Carol.

  But, Morrigan’s response to them being friends. That one was on Morrigan and she knew it. Her disgust was not aimed at the idea of being friends, despite her lack of interest, but at everything else the woman said. But even for Morrigan, who wasn’t the best with understanding emotions, she could perceive how her response could have easily been misread.

  In the welcome silence of their walk, it gave time for Morrigan to think about what the woman had been saying: about her current friendships, her life, and all the other unnecessary stories she shared. In all that, she had a sense that besides the woman’s husband, she didn’t seem to have any friends.

  It seemed like her life and mixed with key bad choices led to her having only one friend. Morrigan could have ended up the same way, if not for different reasons. But she had all of team S.O.L. They were her family.

  She wouldn’t trade them for anything. They might think her distant, but she’d sell her shop, give up her magic, and put her life on the line for each and every one of them. They were her precious few. And they loved and accepted her for who she was.

  Carol didn’t have that.

  Not in numbers at least. Carol’s husband, from what she said, actually seemed like not just her lover and financial benefactor, but her true friend. It was doubtful that Carol’s degrading looks would ever push him away, or that some “thirst trap” would be able to pry his love from her. But Carol’s behaviors were likely to do that for her.

  And then Carol would have no friends.

  And something about the finality of that truly felt sad to Morrigan.

  “Carol,” Morrigan said. She stopped walking as they crossed under the shade of a tree’s arm that spanned the entire pathway.

  Carol didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to either. Morrigan knew she was listening. The quickened heartbeat gave it all away. With Carol’s side pressed into Morrigan, and her arm wrapped around Morrigan’s neck and shoulders for support, it was easy to feel the increased thudding of Carol’s heart. She was listening, even if she didn’t want to speak for once.

  Morrigan turned hear head to Carol. Carol’s sweaty arm felt like a damp cloth behind Morrigan’s neck. The idea of someone else’s sweat on her made Morrigan’s stomach do a proverbial barrel roll. But she pushed down the feeling of disgust, as she couldn’t have a repeat of earlier.

  “Carol,” Morrigan said tentatively. “You advised that you’d like a friendship? When this mission is done, I suppose we can talk about … this lady’s night out thing you mentioned. Or whatever you call it I guess.”

  Carol turned her head, expression blank, green eyes staring at Morrigan. Carol maintained the gaze for many people would consider a moment too long, too uncomfortable. An amount of time that most people would look away.

  Morrigan was aware of such, but she lost that sort of discomfort a long time ago. Prolonged eye contact did not dismay her. Staring at things was a part of observation, and just as useful of a tool as statistical analysis. So she kept the eye contact.

  “Hmph,” Carol said, a rueful smile crossing her lips. She glanced away as if in thought, and then looked back at Morrigan. It appeared as though she was going to say something, but then her attention snapped forward.

  “What?” Morrigan said, eyes going forward.

  “Ahhh” Carol screamed.

  “Oh my!” Morrigan said, as a large spider hung upside from a web, just inches from her face. Startled, she stepped back quickly but uncoordinated. The sloppy, jerky movement nearly cost her hold of Carol, who also backpedalled like a stork walking in reverse.

  Goosebumps raced across Morrigan’s arms despite the humidity. Heat raced across her palms and fingers tips, like hot coffee spilled over a counter - scalding to the touch and uncontainable.

  Carol squeaked! “Hot! Aww!” Her body squirming next to Morrigan.

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  Morrigan whipped her right hand out to the side, realization that she was still holding onto Carol’s side to keep her from falling. She was burning the woman.

  “Sorry!”

  “Gods that was hot,” Carol said, holding her right side. They both then looked at the spider.

  “It’s a spider! Kill it! Kill it with fire!” Carol screamed.

  Morrigan raised her left hand to hip hight, ready to the incinerate the creature. Yes she could cast magic. Yes she’s fought her share of supernatural creatures. But vermin such a spiders and mice held a special place on her list to annihilate on sight. It was a logical evolutionary response. At least that’s what she told her self.

  The scientist side of her also told her that they had natural habitats, and that gave Morrigan pause.

  “What are you doing La Fey? Kill it. Kill it! Gosh, I think something’s crawling on me now.”

  Ignoring Carol’s psychosomatic response, “I understand your request. But I’ve made a point of not killing spiders unless they were in my house. And given where we are … I’d say this is it’s home. Then again …”

  Morrigan inspected the spider. The spider was larger than she’d expect, its body, legs and all, about the size of her hand — more than sizable enough for a good shoeing from a safe distance. But its colors and vague familiarity had given her further pause, curiosity overcoming her natural and “logical” creeped-out-ness.

  “You see that,” Morrigan said.

  “Yes. And I see that it’s not dead.”

  “No. The coloration on the creatures, hmm,” Morrigan paused, trying to recall the scientific term and then deciding if she couldn’t recall it, Carol definitely wouldn’t know what she was talking about. “The myriad of colors on its butt,” Morrigan said, pointing but not reaching out to the creature; the heat in her hands not hotter than lukewarm tea.

  Morrigan paused, quietly scolding herself for not knowing the correct terminology. But bugs weren’t her specialty. But there were some basic things she did know. “Bright colors typically indicate poison. However, I don’t think that is the case with this one. Some of the colors are dull. I’m not certain, but I think I’ve seen this one before. And—” Morrigan didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence.

  Carol lashed out with her right arm, waving it haphazardly at the spider. Carol’s left arm still held onto Morrigan’s shoulders, as the woman awkwardly advanced to get a better reach. The weight shift caused Morrigan to stumble.

  Morrigan grabbed tightly on Carol’s side, and the woman’s left hand, trying to both hold her back and keep them from falling.

  “Stop!” Morrigan shouted, trying to hold the woman back. An image flitted into Morrigan’s head. Two college students, one wearing black jeans and blouse, the other in a skin tight white dress and drunk off her ass. The woman in white, fueled by alcohol, lacking sense, but brave as a bull, zig-zagged mace in the eyes of an innocent who she thought touched her butt. The woman in black was doing her best to hold the other back.

  That memory of her old friend, Chelsea, hadn’t come back till now. Morrigan remembered that that night didn’t go so well for anyone. The memory of the event settled into the back of Morrigan’s mind, while the old quote about learning from the past took the forefront.

  “Carol, stop!”

  Carol didn’t listen. Instead, she kept swiping at the spider. Morrigan kept pulling back, but underestimated the extended arm reach that went along with Carol being so much taller than Morrigan. Carol batted at the spider, just missing it.

  However, Carol did hit the webbing that held the spider up. The spider swayed like a pi?ata hit by a bat. Carol, disgusted by the thread on her hand, began waving it frantically, jarring the spider up and down until it fell.

  Two things happened at once as Morrigan watched the spider fall: one, she thought she heard the sound of something go “eep!”; second, that their was a flash of light from her crescent-shaped necklace.

  “What was that?” Morrigan said, glancing at her charm and then around her, and then back at the spider who was scampering about.

  “A spider!”

  “Hold on Carol!” Morrigan said. She wasn’t sure where the voice came from, but she was certain that her charm flashed. And unlike she had told Carol earlier, the charm was much more than a “mood ring.” She narrowed her eyes down at the spider, who dashed about after getting knocked from its web.

  “It’s going to attack us! Kill it!” Carol said, leaning heavily against Morrigan, her posture wanting to run or attack.

  “No. If we don’t get close, we’ll be fine. Plus,” the spider stopped scrambling and stayed about two feet in front of Morrigan. “It looks familiar.”

  Morrigan stared at the spider, who stared back at her with its multitude of eyes. If Morrigan didn’t know better, she’d thought that from its black glassy eyes had a hint of intelligence. She couldn’t place exactly why, but it was the same feeling she’d have when looking at certain dogs. That sense that there was a mind in there, that knew exactly what was going on.

  In addition, something about the creature seemed … cute to Morrigan, which is a far departure of how she felt about any arachnid before. Perhaps it was the paisley like colorations on its read. The collars were like was a mixture of red, blue, and a sedated yellow-green.

  The more she stared at it, the more she could make out the image of an elephant. The elephant image faced forward, its skin blue and the rest of its body, like its ears and tusks, were outlined in the backdrop of red. The yellow-green made up the color of its tusks, red its eyes, and a splattering more of that yellow color to make up additional shading on the skin.

  “I’ve …. Seen this before. My friend, made me watch a ton of videos on these things.” Morrigan shook her head at the memory of Ophelia making her watch the a video called the World’s Top 10 Creepily-Cute things. “I believe that little guy is called a, um,” Morrigan racked her brain, trying to think back, letting her hold on Carol loosen.

  “I remember! It’s a , from the Peacock spider family. They’re native to Australia and only a few millimeters long. Meaning, they are much smaller than this. But I don’t know why it’d be here, or so large. Unless —” Morrigan stopped her words as the spider moved, seemingly in response to her words.

  It raised black-and grey legs like a person putting their hands up. Then it started to move back and forth, its several sets of black eyes seemingly focused on Morrigan. The look reminded Morrigan that the small spider, was still a creepy-ass-spider, even if it was tiny and “cute.”

  The same idea must have ripped across Carol’s mind because in a surprising move, she began to stomp at it with her right foot.

  “Carol no. Stop! That’s not an aggressive move. It means us no harm!” Failing to stop the woman quick movement.

  “Not aggressive! Sure, just like a hedge fund manager on a yacht party with bikini models. I know danger when I see it!”

  “Carol listen to me!”

  Morrigan’s hold on Carol wasn’t secure. And for the first time, Carol had no issue keeping her four-inch heels from getting stuck in the mud. She used Morrigan like a crutch as she unleashed a series of stomp-kicks at the spider.

  Carol was a storm of kicks with her good leg. Carol’s jerky movements, mixed with Morrigan’s poor hold on the woman caused them to stumble dangerously close to the spider. Another flash from Morrigan’s pendant caught her eye.

  They both almost trampled the spider. The spider zig-zagged, expertly dodging the stumbling footfalls. Seeking whatever exit it could find, the spider started to retreat further away.

  Carol was having none of that. She reached her good leg out as far as he could in an attempt to exterminate the spider. The attacked missed and Morrigan, for a second time, thought she heard a brassy and deep “Eeek!”

  There was no time to pin-point the sound. Carol was falling now. She had over-reached and was going to fall hard on her side, already having lost her grip on Morrigan’s shoulders and neck. Morrigan reached up with her right arm, awkwardly grabbing ahold of Carol’s forearm before she slipped away.

  Morrigan yanked hard, using her arm muscle and body weight, dropping into a high, unbalanced squat, to pull the woman. Morrigan, overestimated the force she needed to use and flung Carol right into her. They both went down, hard.