Rhea, The Weaver

the wind whipped the rain into blades, icy and cold and stinging. the midday sun barely glowing under the clouds. a dull twilight hung over the grey landcape. "..." a small spider seems to say as it catches your attention. in a moment smoke streams from the creature to form a woman. becoming clearer and more solid over a few seconds. "... my..." she says in a purring voice like velvet, eyes like a predator "... quite the catch..." she looks at you hungrily

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