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- Staring at the top of the tent he and his father shared, Cirys cursed himself for his own feelings. It was silly, he told himself. Gwen was his friend, he should be glad for her successes. He didn’t begrudge her her abilities. She was good, and learned faster than he did. She just did.
- Whereas he…
- He…
- …
- He had his practice stick in hand, and nothing else. No armor, no backup, no healing items, nothing. So what was he doing, climbing down Taylor’s stairs in the middle of the night? He almost stopped to think about what he was doing, but he shoved the thought out of his brain and pushed on.
- A wall of bugs welcomed him in the first room.
- He didn’t hesitate. He charged.
- His wild staff strike was deftly dodged. A spider blindsided him and pushed him to the ground. He pushed himself back up, shoving the spider off, then swung his staff at the bugs. An ant caught his staff and immobilized it.
- Then something white and sticky fell on him. Spider webs, carried by a webweaver hanging from the ceiling which he hadn’t seen. Within moments, he was wrapped up with only his head free. The webweaver retreated up the bug chute, dragging him halfway up until he was hanging a few feet off the ground, completely stuck. No matter how hard he struggled, the webs just would not move. He roared and raged, and pulled and shifted, and even tried empowering his legs to break the webbings. He might as well have been struggling against a full box of iron for all his struggles produced.
- Finally exhausted, he stopped and hung limply.
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