As I surveyed our potential territory, excitement coursed through me. The forest would become our domain, a sanctuary for my offspring and I amidst a world that had cast us aside. Yet, among the triumph of claiming our territory, a nagging thought lingered in the recesses of my mind—the humans. They wouldn't accept our presence here passively, that's certain.

The lone survivor had mentioned something about his settlement requesting reinforcements, and stopping them would be the next move, if I wasn’t exhausted. With each passing moment, the humans would become more aware of the circumstances, and there was nothing I could really do to stop them. I can only imagine that they would come to some sort of conclusion after their men failed to return after all this time.

As the seconds wore on, I found myself lost in contemplation, strategizing our next move. The village lay far beyond the trees, its inhabitants currently unaware of the impending threat that lurked in their midst. 

Deep in reflection, I pondered the best course of action with the information the human gave me. Should I blitz the villagers and risk exposing myself prematurely? Or should I wait and gather more information about the nature of the threat before making any decisions? As I mulled over these options, a small tug at my foot broke my chain of thought, jolting me back to the present moment.

The three of my spider-like children were trying to get my attention.

“Mother, what….do?” The largest one buzzed, drawing attention to the fact that they had finished amassing the pile of human remains.

And yet, I was too stunned to respond. These children…my children, they…they could express full thoughts! Not just cries for food and the like. Sure it was crude sounding, but it was definitely a start.

Another tug helped me refocus my attention, and as I looked down their eyes met mine, in what seemed to be a sense of urgency and determination. It was as if they were urging me to act, to lead them.

“We…I will go and attack the humans….” I finally answered, beginning to piece together what would be our next course of action.

“And you all will stay here where it's safe.”

There was brief a moment of silence among them all as they contemplated my words, only for the largest of all my children to betray my expectations.

“Humans….dangerous. We protect mother.” The biggest of the beetles replied, voicing a concern that all seven of her large brethren seemed to share.

“Mother tired, injured, needs… rest. We fight for mother.” The remaining ten argued. 

As I stood amidst the towering trees, the weight of my children's words settled upon me like a heavy cloak. They each looked at me in a different way, roles in the family becoming more evident when each of the three subspecies' unique anatomy was taken into account.

It would deem that they all trusted me to guide them, their next actions hanging on my very word despite their protests.

Voices echoed in my mind, their arguments swirling around like leaves caught in a strong wind. The females, particulate the three spiders, began to voice their concerns of the dangers posed by the humans to her brethren. They seemed to take a more neutral side, opting to avoid them altogether. 

But then, there were the others, the aggressive males, eager to prove themselves in battle, eager to fight for their family. Their enthusiasm was infectious, their loyalty unwavering. How could I deny them the opportunity to stand by my side in combat? They had proved themselves capable, and I could only imagine that they were even more prepared after going through a short metamorphosis.

And so, I found myself torn between two paths, each fraught with its own risks and uncertainties. Should I heed the warnings and keep my children safe, or should I embrace their eagerness to fight alongside me, knowing full well the dangers that lay ahead?

As I grappled with these thoughts, a soft hum filled the air, drawing my attention back to the present moment. My children, my beloved offspring, stood before me, their eyes filled with hope and determination once again. They had reached a conclusion on their own it would seem.

"Mother, we fight and protect you," they chirped in unison, their voices a symphony of determination and loyalty.

I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at their words, at their unwavering devotion to me. And these twenty..these twenty were just the start. I could have as many children as I liked as long as the humans were around.

“Then it's decided. We will attack the human village when the sun begins to fall. I will be well rested by then.” I conclude, my children nodding their heads at my words.

But then, a gentle reminder broke through the momentary reverie—their exoskeletons needed time to finish solidifying, to harden into the armor like mine that they would need for battle. It was a sobering realization, a reminder of the limitations imposed by our very nature.

"Very well," I conceded, "we shall wait until your shells are ready. But when the night is darkest, we shall march upon the humans, united as one."

With a chorus of chirps and clicks, my children voiced their agreement, wings buzzing with excitement. 

***

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the forest floor. It was time to rest, to gather our strength for the confrontation that lay ahead. If we were going to set up a place of residence, I figured now was the time to do so.  

I led my offspring up the trees, where I discovered that most could just fly to the top. Aside from beetles that apparently weighed too much. They could glide, but flight seemed impossible. 

They could grip the tree however, and had a far easier time climbing up than myself.

Fortunately my children came back down when they saw my predicament, and they all worked to get the human corpses in addition to myself up to the highest branches.

“You all can produce silk, no?” I asked everyone, taking a look at the naked forest tops. This place could use some white, and it'd be more than convenient if we were not confined to just branches when moving up and down or between trees.

“We can mother, but our siblings cannot.” The spiders said. Given their appearance I'm not surprised, but were their siblings really incapable of producing webbing of any sort? I thought the trait would carry over from their pre-metamorphosisized forms.

Whatever the case I could make do with just those three at least, and I immediately gave them the task of connecting the forest with their stands of white.

As I settled in for the evening, I couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation that pulsed through me. Tonight, we would emerge from the shadows, ready to claim what was ours and confront those who had wronged us. 

But first, a nap. At my command the males left to go and keep an eye on the human settlement, while those who remained rested with me. It would no doubt be a brief bout of sleep but something was better than nothing. 

***

When my children woke me the moon’s round figure caught my eyes, helping to illuminate our makeshift dwelling. 

The spiders were still hard at work after all this time, expanding our home more and more until it was evidently clear that we took control over a visibly sizable amount of the forest. One look at the forest canopy, and anyone would know it was our territory. A good way to ward off creatures I suppose.

Given the ok by my children, we were ready and it was finally time. Time to take what was ours.

Silk

Silk is a proteinfibre typically spun by spiders. Spiders use silk to make webs or other structures that function as adhesive traps to catch prey, to entangle and restrain prey before biting, to transmit tactile information, or as nests or cocoons to protect their offspring. They can use the silk to float through the air, or to glide away from predators. Most spiders vary the thickness and adhesiveness of their silk according to its use. Silks are ductile, with some able to stretch up to five times their relaxed length without breaking, and their strength is comparable to that of steel.