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Citrus

"On Crickets"

Something was causing a great disturbance in the world. Imperceptible to the humanoid eye (but quite noticeable when one had compound eyes, thank you very much), a spider watched Science Lab whirl from her comfortable, snow-white, silken web.

 

Flicker bright, flicker low. Flicker bright, flicker low. Goodness. If that flicker kept up, it would scare away all the crickets. Having no comprehension of what a "cloak" or a "transporter" was, Citrus attributed the change in lighting to an impending storm. Soon the "savannah" would be rained on, and then even yummier bugs would come out to drink up the puddles.

 

So she waited. Patiently... patiently... she didn't even lift one leg as she waited for the storm, content that her pretty, silken burrow would protect her from the rain. But rain wasn't coming. A pity. She was so sure there was going to be a storm.

 

Disappointed, the orange tarantula made her mechanical-yet-graceful way to the stone depression in the corner, dismayed to find only a half-inch of water there. The green plant-thing who smelled like too-sweet flowers and who made water appear in the stone depression had not visited for several days. Nor had she made the crunchy crickets come.

 

Mournfully, Citrus settled by the water-depression. She didn't know what could possibly have been more important than her, and her dim spider-mind decided that the plant-thing liked the Place -- the wide open place with lots of blinking lights -- the one she'd seen a few times from the plant-thing's shoulder... the Place that came after the tiny, little room that moved. The plant-thing liked that Place more than it liked her.

 

The spider nibbled on a leftover hind-leg of a cricket, contemplating what seemed like a very dim future. No plant-thing to bring crickets. No plant-thing to bring water. No plant-thing to serve as a handy perch to survey her territory.

 

Turning philosophical, the tarantula moved on to the thorax from her most recent meal. Assuming that the plant-thing never came back, how was she to survive? Her leftover cricket-parts would only last so long. The little water left in her dish would soon be gone as well. And then what? Her savannah was much smaller than it was years ago -- years ago when the sky was blue, and the world seemed to have no limits.

 

The truth was there. She was lonely, lost in a small, cramped little world without grass and sky. Even her one friend, plant-thing, had seemed to have abandoned her. All was hopeless, hopeless...

 

A strange, acrid smell cracked the air, sending all of Citrus' little hairs on end. Was it? Was... it...

 

It was! She knew that smell anywhere! That smell was responsible for the savannah going away! She scaled the wall like a champion mountain climber. She'd bite it, and bite it again...

 

"Oh, my," the mechanical voice wheezed, mechanical arm snapping the lid back into place hurridly as he waited for the spider to descend the cage again.. "Laarell wouldn't like it very much if you ran away," Commander Kahrak noted, shuffling at the side of the terrarium

 

The Horta considered the tarantula he'd caught for the Orion, and were he humanoid, he would have smiled. As it was, the dark silicoid form turned a shade darker. "You must have been very lonely, what with Mommy on the bridge...

 

"Do you think of her as Mommy?" Kahrak mused, one "finger" tapping on the side of the cage and sending the spider into conniptions. "Of course you must. She brings you food and water like any good mother."

 

Suddenly, the roof opened, and one, two, three, crickets fell from the sky, dazed as they landed -- it landed. Only one managed to touch the ground before it was pierced sharply by arachnid fangs, and Citrus went bounding after it (two crickets still held in her mandibles) before realizing that it wasn't plant-thing which had deposited the food.

 

The Horta gave it one last, fond, look, shuffling off to the geological sciences division to yell at ensigns. What he didn't know was that the spider had returned to a sense of contentment, digesting dinner. All was right in the Science Lab once again.

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.... I will never, ever ever ever ever have a spider as a pet. These logs from an arachnids perspective are really cool, but my creepy factor goes off the charts. And why do I keep getting this mental image of the day when Citrus leaps to her freedom from the cage? Boo Yah Spider on the Prowl?

 

Never. Ever.

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It will happen. Someday. ;)

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I thought kitties liked spiders. My cat likes to poke them around for a bit before finally...crunch! ;)

Edited by Kairi

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Nice log!

 

I thought kitties liked spiders. My cat likes to poke them around for a bit before finally...crunch!

 

Mine will do that with insects, but not with spiders. He'll start meowing at me to do something about it, then I'll start hollering to someone else about it, as I don't much care for them either, except on a completely intellectual level that sadly has no effect on my phobia.

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