Walking was an exercise for him nowadays.

That may sound obvious - of course walking was an exercise, everyone knew that. However, he thought of it not as an exercise in the sense that it burned calories or kept him healthy (which he was quite sure it didn't really; unlike humans, his health condition was not so volatile, mostly since his diet was quite restrictive and he didn't have much in the way of muscles), but rather as a mental exercise, an exercise in keeping himself moving during winter; Abathur thought such thoughts to himself with startling frequency recently, silent self-reminders as to why he was doing this, why he should bother walking around when there was a perfectly insulated house waiting for him.

The reason was simply so he didn't give up.

He had never had any problem with motivation in the past, yes, but he didn't want to chance it - after all, he had also not been part of a massive group like this in the past, a region of people who treated him with... respect? It seemed like respect, from what he understood respect to be. At the very least they weren't trying to stamp out his life, to eradicate him, as if he was an oversized pest. He shuddered quietly at that thought, before he felt something - a set of pawsteps he hadn't felt since the border a few days ago, walking in a manner that absolutely had to be searching. He knew how to detect the slight changes in pressure from how people were standing and things like that from the subtle vibrations in the earth, and he had much experience with people seeking him out. He almost considered hiding himself away, when, before he could act on baser impulses, a familiar voice hit his hairs.

Slowly, the spider turned - in reality, he was moving as fast as he could, but the arthropod understandably had trouble with pivoting around - and looked Adelaide in the eyes, listening silently to see what she had to say. At first, he was utterly baffled as to why someone would seek him out specifically, but she answered that question with a question of her own, leaving him in peace.

Sort of - the spider still felt something close to disappointment that she wasn't just interested in talking to him, although he would A) never admit it and B) didn't understand it himself.

So he began responding to her, from the top. "Greetings, subject Adelaide. Yes, am Abathur Everman. No, weather is awful today. Yes, subject can ask questions." Four simple sentences, short and snappy, cold and to the point, robotic in tone and delivery, yet still maintaining an odd sense of personality to them; despite the deep monotone, you truly could tell that he was alive, and not just some automaton.

After he was silent for a few seconds, the spider would pipe up again, this time elaborating by saying, "Always recommend subjects indulge in curiosity - knowledge, important to bettering selves, in long run." Apparently, he was a natural at spouting off his own life philosophies; it was something he enjoyed doing, even without realizing it was good for interaction

tags - "speech"

[don't apologize; just write as much as you want and i'll do the same, yeah?]

"Power, inconsequential," the spider muttered darkly to himself, an offhanded remark, simply speaking without really thinking while his interrogator talked. It was rare that he spoke so quickly - normally he would take his time, a second or two or more, to think, to mull over a 'proper' response. It was a habit he hadn't shaken in the relatively short amount of time he had lived here in Tanglewood.

The venom question caught him off guard, though he supposed he should have sawn it coming. It made sense for anyone to be worried about what it could do to them, or even morbidly curious about it. He just hadn't really thought about it. He saw it as a tool for hunting, and he never wanted to hunt people yet - he had been hunted down himself for most of his life, various attempts to kill him leaving him both mentally scarred and strong. He would never forget, but he considered himself a grown spider - he wouldn't let their actions get in the way of his development, his evolution.

"Have paralytic effect - prevent prey from struggling. Allows easier killing." He said, firstly, lifting his chelicarae up so that his fangs were more visible, for emphasis. "Primary defensive tool, however, is fear. Do not need to bite, only need to threaten to bite - opens opportunity for escape." His speech was, while smooth as ever, addled with the underlying current of first-hand experience, as if he knew what he was talking about. "Always retreat from open combat. Dislike fighting, and function better with element of surprise. However," as he continued talking, he lowered his fangs again, shifting his stance slightly to lower himself to the ground, "if self needs to defend self and cannot run, consider silk more useful than fangs. Fangs give threat of biting, can cause pain, yes, but silk is incredibly versatile, and can spin many varieties of strands, including adhesive. Very useful."

tags - "speech"