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Spider woke early; the sun was just beginning to creep over the horizon and the night-time animals were finally making their way back to their dens. She had been sleeping fairly well for the past few days, but the little ones within her belly had begun to wriggle around and assert themselves more. Needless to say, it made for uncomfortable sleeping no matter how soft she'd made her den floor.

Hauling herself up out of the den underneath the cypress tree, with the large moth Bauble resting on her shoulders, she shook her head and began an entirely too-early morning walk. She had been considering making her way out to one of the edges of the floodplain her tree stood in, where huge brambles with sweet-tart berries grew. She'd been having a craving for them lately, and now had every intent of gorging herself on them until her muzzle and hooves were painted purple with their juice. It would be a bit of a walk considering her now much heavier frame, but once she got there, it would all be worth it.

In her mouth, held quite daintily, was a songbird feather -- to keep away the bees, after all. Songbirds ate bees, so the bees would recognize the feather and keep well enough away. It made perfect sense to the doe.

It took Spider the better part of an hour to make her way there, her steps careful and slow. Once or twice she stopped along the way to snack on some berries, or once a frog; she got hungry much more easily these days, and this was no different. Exercise only increased the desire to eat. She wished that the mare Webweave would have clued her into this fact. If she had, things might have gone differently.

Eventually she'd make it to her berry patch, mouth watering with the desire to gorge herself on the tart fruits. A moment later she stopped in her tracks, head tilted, watching the other doe root through the brambles in search of the juiciest, shiniest berries. She had a whole basket full of the berries! Spider didn't mind sharing -- she was altruistic as kimeti went -- but those berries were the best ones. The ones that should have been going in her belly to sate her craving and feed her little ones. It made her sniff quietly to herself.

"I hope you don't mind sharing." Her voice was pleasant (it never got any other way), but she meant business. With her head held high, she made her way forward to a thick, gnarled patch of bramble -- and began to eat, moving forward as she went so that eventually only her two hind legs and tail were visible.

"There are plenty of berries," came the other doe's distracted voice -- a bit thick, of course, since she'd just pushed her nose into a juicy, delicious clump of them and was chewing away happily. She'd never speak with her mouth full if someone could see her, but haunch-deep in a bramble she didn't exactly care. She hadn't even so much as given the other doe a cursory glance; Willow's artful stance and her offended look was lost on Spider.

"If you circle around to the other side, there are more. And the light hits them better." Wiping her mouth off on one leg, leaving a long scrape of reddish-violet pulp along her fur, Spider backed carefully out [avoiding thorns] and regarded Willow with a steady sort of look. Completely unperturbed in a way that suggested she was always like that. "Might be wise -- these are quite good. Juicy and tart."

As if to help explain, the giant moth that had been resting on Spider's shoulders fluttered up and made its way over to the other side of the bush, hovering above another dense tangle of berries.

Spider stopped and stared at the other kimeti, regarding her with a level sort of look that was mild and bland -- asking, without words, if the other doe was really that serious about the berries. Finally she made her way carefully all the way out of the bramble, pregnant belly and all, and nodded.

"I don't mean to intrude," she began, not wanting to sound snippy (the other doe was taking care of that just fine), "But I'm eating for -- who knows how many. Little ones. I won't be here long." Swishing her tail lazily against her flanks, she cocked her head. "You're using them for paint?"

Bauble was completely uninterested in what the other doe might be using them for. The moth had settled onto one of the highest brambles and was contentedly chewing away at a berry that probably weighed more than he did; the steady stream of contentment and pleasure that Spider got from her familiar softened her stance some. "I would like to see them."

Among Spider's many other talents was her innate ability to ignore anyone and everything. She may have been ignoring Willow, or the other doe may have had her words drowned out by the fact Spider was happily munching away on a mouthful of delicious berries.

But when Willow moved, struggling with the log full of berries, that broke Spider's concentration; she swallowed quickly and then turned around with interest, watching to see how the other kimeti managed. "Do you want help with that?" Beyond a charm to make Willow stronger or her load lighter (neither of which she had at the moment), sheer muscle-power would always be useful. No matter how snippy Willow seemed to be.

Spider was good natured; she would work her way deepest into the brush, where the berries grew thick and plump. These were the berries she'd been questing after, and she'd gotten several good mouthfuls... she could always come back here later, after Willow was preoccupied. Returning with a carefully-held mouthful of plump, unsmashed berries, she dropped them into the "basket" and followed with Bauble riding on her rump.

Honestly. This had better be good, for all the fuss Willows-breath was making.

Spider puts the berries down with the same care she takes with all of her charms or trinkets -- and then noses around the orange paste, recoiling back with a shocked expression on her face. Whatever that was had once been alive and had not aged well. Keeping a polite distance back to avoid interrupting Spider's concentration, she spoke in a soft voice [though one not without a touch of what-are-you-doing in it]. "What will you be painting? Your colors are brilliant."

Here, the first mildly irritated thing Wood Spider has ever said to another kimeti (at least in her memory):

"Hmp."

She stands regarding the painting for some time, flicking her ears this way and that. Spider isn't dumb -- perhaps slightly mad, but not dumb. While she doesn't have the eye for art that Willow so obviously has, she has a delicate touch. So after a moment, once Willow finished grumping about and selecting her colors, she would find herself alone, without an audience. Perhaps she would be famous someday, but not with that attitude, of that Spider was fairly sure.

When Willow next took a break from painting, if she ventured outside into the swamp, she'd find two things: Spider had brought (or left) another log of berries from the bush, and two moth fronds had been laid carefully over the top. Given their dusty coloring, they'd come from Spider's own familiar -- or her personal stash of charms and trinkets. They'd provide interesting textures if painted with, at least...