GREEN
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721 3.96 KB 48
721 3.96 KB 48
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>Context: Someone Posted a SpodeRarity snuggling Anon's face and I couldn't resist dropping a snippet.
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>She leaves you little gifts, sometimes, when you're sleeping.
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>Small things, wrapped up in silk and topped with some bow she must have dug up out of your old holiday bin.
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>A single sock, a handkerchief, a pair of delightfully well-fitting gloves, another sock to match the first.
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>Little things.
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>At first, you thought your little gift-giver was a shy breezie. Fluttershy had told you about those: nervous fairy ponies that liked to hide. She was a nervous little thing as well, and knew their plight.
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>So you'd left out a small scarf, set your battered old phone to record, and went to bed eagerly.
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>She was clever, or she knew how cameras worked, or something, because the next morning the only thing revealed was a scarf magically lifting out of sight, but without the glow you'd come to expect of unicorns.
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>The next morning you woke to find a small thank you note, in tiny script.
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>It made you all the more determined.
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>The next few days were a blur of attempted (and failed) plans and plots and traps.
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>You had to meet her!
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>Twilight tried to use your... Well, it wasn't an obsession... as an excuse to drag you over to the library and learn proper self-care habits (something about her being sexist against stallions, you weren't really paying attention).
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>You would not be dissuaded, however.
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>Finally, one night you caught sight of her, dropping down from that big hole in the ceiling you'd never gotten around to patching.
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>Down, down on a silky line to the table which you'd become accustomed to exchanging gifts.
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>She wasn't a breezie.
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>She was a massive white spider.
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>Now, you're a nature man.
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>You liked the outdoors.
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>You liked bugs.
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>Hell, you've never really been afraid of spiders; you'd catch them in your hands and see them safely outside whenever they crawled into your house back on Earth.
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>Much to your shrieking sister's chagrin, of course.
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>But still, the size of this one gave you pause.
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>And then she reached out to where you'd left the bait (it was less bait and more a gift of fondness, now; the hunt having turned into a game over time), a small bolt of cloth cut into a blanket and clumsily sewn onto a soft lining.
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>In its place was left a small box, glimmering in a silken wrapping.
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>She turned in place on the table, watching you for a moment, and freezing when she saw your eyes open and looking back.
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>She began to climb back up, but you sat up, and words left your lips unbidden.
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"Wait! Please don't go!"
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>She hung there, for a moment, and slowly, slowly, dropped back to the table.
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>And you, Anon, eased down onto your knees in front of her, careful not to make any sudden motions.
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"I wanted to meet you. And. Thank you for all the gifts."
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>The alabaster spider shivers in place, and at the edge of your hearing you make out a light titter.
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>"You must think me so rude, stalking about like a thief in the night! I'm terribly sorry, darling. I wanted to pay you back for letting me use your attic, but I was nervous."
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>You have an attic?
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"I have an attic?"
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>The little big spider bobs in an approximation of a curtsy, long legs extending.
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>"Of course! I've been trying to keep the mice out of your things, but there are so dreadfully many."
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>Huh.
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>The previous owners must have left their stuff behind.
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>"Oh, but you must forgive me for not introducing myself! I... My name is Rarity. I'm a star spider."
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>Her pure white carapace catches the moonlight streaming in through your window, hilighting a trio of bright blue spots on her abdomen.
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>You can appreciate how Mother Ntaure makes her engines so enchanting, and you're struck for a moment.
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"...You're beautiful. Sorry! Uh, I'm Anon. I mean, it's nice to meet you, Rarity."
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>In your defense, being nice to the talking spider living in your attic that is less than two feet away is probably a good idea.
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>Against you is the fact that you do find her voice, quiet as it is, stunning.
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>She is a beautiful spider.
by ScribblesAnon
by ScribblesAnon
by ScribblesAnon