At first, Arachne thought the rumble of horse hoofs was the sound of thunder slowly creeping in from afar. It wasn’t unheard of. Hot as it was out, the air was dense with moisture. Perhaps a cool, wet gust was moving in on the heat with the usual squabbling storm to be fought between them. Thinking this way, Arachne barely felt the urge to lift her wicker thatched covering over her head in case it did rain-- but then, just another second later, she heard it. The bells!
There was no thought, no consideration, no fear. Arachne darted in the direction she heard the jingle-jangle coming from with speed and strength she couldn’t possibly have given how little she ate these days. Her fevered mind decided it was a gift from the gods-- the bells of a passing carriage, her speed and strength, all of it! It had to be! And perhaps the gods had favored her with the ability to bend time itself to her will as well, as it felt like only a few seconds passed before she caught up to the carriage on the nearest path. Fortune favoring her even more, the two fine black horses leading the way moved slowly enough that Arachne was able to jump out in front of them without fearing for her life.
“Good evening, sir!” The stitch witch called out cheerfully to the carriage-driver, just as she had rehearsed thousands of times before in the past three months. Never mind that she had given up hope. Never mind that she must’ve appeared absolutely terrifying, even in the dark. Now that she was presented with the opportunity to sell or trade to a stranger, Arachne simply couldn’t pass it up. “Might I interest your master in the finest baskets in all five Queendoms of Fae Woods?”