CHULANE
"Oh, thanks," I responded to her offer of employment with a touch of surprise, but mostly gratitude. "I'll certainly help out wherever I can." I nod, thinking that I'd be pretty ordinary behind the bar, but I could cook alright, and probably clean up after guests in the lodge bedrooms after their stays (I wasn't above doing a bit of housekeeping). I could, at the least, make myself useful.
A smile touched my face as I watched the spider, ascertaining that it didn't seem able to cause any harm to humans (with the way Weaver handled it, I assumed it was safe to do so). While I preferred animals of the mammalian or avian variety, I wasn't about to become squeamish around a spider - I grew up on Australia for crying out loud, I've met spiders larger than dinner plates.
I happily held my hand out for it, curling my fingers up slightly so that it wouldn't wander too far. It was far more docile than the spiders of Australia, who wanted nothing more than to run away, and if they couldn't do that, bite. Weaver prepares a spot for the arachnid to be able to indulge, and I oblige in her instructions to let him down, my scientist's fascination with the creature gleaming enough knowledge from this close encounter to be satisfied for now.
"Perhaps he can become the bar's mascot," I comment as I watch the creature enjoy itself in the little haven we have given it. "We could set him up with lodging and food easy enough." I shrug, smiling all the way. "Might give the regulars something different to look at during Deepfrost."
A smile touched my face as I watched the spider, ascertaining that it didn't seem able to cause any harm to humans (with the way Weaver handled it, I assumed it was safe to do so). While I preferred animals of the mammalian or avian variety, I wasn't about to become squeamish around a spider - I grew up on Australia for crying out loud, I've met spiders larger than dinner plates.
I happily held my hand out for it, curling my fingers up slightly so that it wouldn't wander too far. It was far more docile than the spiders of Australia, who wanted nothing more than to run away, and if they couldn't do that, bite. Weaver prepares a spot for the arachnid to be able to indulge, and I oblige in her instructions to let him down, my scientist's fascination with the creature gleaming enough knowledge from this close encounter to be satisfied for now.
"Perhaps he can become the bar's mascot," I comment as I watch the creature enjoy itself in the little haven we have given it. "We could set him up with lodging and food easy enough." I shrug, smiling all the way. "Might give the regulars something different to look at during Deepfrost."
The only true wisdom is in knowing
you know nothing
you know nothing
