The beast’s heavy head collided with the cavern wall. Once. Again. She forced it upward, rocking the weight against the slope, using her borrowed limbs to jam the skull into place. The abdomen dragged, tilted. The soft midsection bent.

       Folded.
 Squeezed.
            Then settled.

The path beneath the head – her only entrance – now lay crumpled against the stone.
     Flattened. Sealed shut. Hidden.
From the outside, the grand arachnid might even pass for the imitation of life.
                   Slumped. Resting. Waiting.

                                                                  Inside, Barbarthara went still.

                                                            Not safe.

                                                                   Not saved.

                                                                                            Not whole.

                                                  But hidden.
                                                          For now.

The beast’s heavy head collided with the cavern wall. Once. Again. She forced it upward, rocking the weight against the slope, using her borrowed limbs to jam the skull into place. The abdomen dragged, tilted. The soft midsection bent.

       Folded.
 Squeezed.
            Then settled.

The path beneath the head – her only entrance – now lay crumpled against the stone.
     Flattened. Sealed shut. Hidden.
From the outside, the grand arachnid might even pass for the imitation of life.
                   Slumped. Resting. Waiting.

                                                           Inside, Barbarthara went still.

                                                     Not safe.

                                                            Not saved.

                                                                                     Not whole.

                                           But hidden.
                                                    For now.

The beast’s heavy head collided with the cavern wall. Once. Again. She forced it upward, rocking the weight against the slope, using her borrowed limbs to jam the skull into place. The abdomen dragged, tilted. The soft midsection bent.

       Folded.
 Squeezed.
            Then settled.

The path beneath the head – her only entrance – now lay crumpled against the stone.
     Flattened. Sealed shut.
                           Hidden.
From the outside, the grand arachnid might even pass for the imitation of life.
    Slumped. Resting. Waiting.

Inside, Barbarthara went still.

       Not safe.

            Not saved.

Not whole.     

   But hidden.
      For now.

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