early in the morning | travelling merchants

[Abattoir]

  Now, Itsy is not necessarily a romantic, but she is certainly a ditzy girl. One moved by passionate words & willful acts in such a way as to become embarrassed, timid, or even flustered as she is now. It is all the arachnid can do not the skitter away from the two of them to return to the heart of her web, sealing herself away for a few days, & gushing about the "purity of a merchant's heart" in her journals. You could not tell any of this by simply looking at the creature. What with her flat, cold voice & alien face.
  She revels in the texture of the hybrid's wool beneath her tarsus. It seems to gently give beneath her hypersensitive hairs, as opposed to fluidly moving past as silk does. As she assumed Reed to be male, she too assumes the animal to be non-sentient as it chews at its.. cud? Perhaps it would be willing to part with a bit of wool?

  Itsy turns her attention to the cart, taking a step closer to examine the wares-

"Mister Reed." She says softly.

  Cleaning a foreleg, as to not dirty what she has spotted, Itsy touches a leg to the bust of a scuffed human mannequin. Faceless. Once white, but now yellowing with the plastic cracked. It's perfect. It draws her in.. allures her, tempts her. Such beautiful clothing she could affix to this human doll.. Indeed it must be human, as she had once as a hatchling seen the skull of such-- speaking of skulls, there seem to be a few in the cart.. She continues to gently prod through the items, gently, carefully, shuddering as the setting sun overwhelms her sensitive eyesight for a few dazzling moments before it sets beneath the treeline.

  She finds a moth-eaten dress, a rusted needle, & a linen bag stuffed to the brim with scraps of cloth.

"I see you have bottles, mister Reed, have you ever found yourself in want of a spider's venom?" She taps a tarsus against the carefully selected items. "I am only painful, not lethal.. in small doses."