Gaevil
The silken strand on which you balance bends and sways with your weight, but no knife could ever cut it. The webbing coats miles upon miles of the forest, but its inhabitants do not mind: this spider traps no prey.
The intricate web is like a network; there is no doubt its maker knows you're here. It simply does not care. With each careful shuffle forward, you feel more and more. You are more. You do not traverse this web. You are a part of it. You are all of it, and you always have been, and you always will be.
Eight limbs move in a perfect dance, weaving a tireless tapestry, making the world, making you, even as you already are, and always have been, and always will be. Eight eyes watch their work, ensuring perfection, not through order or planning, but by the simple fact of tangibility, of existence without errors. There are no errors. What there is simply is. Everything is, and you are as well.
Eight limbs step forward, away from a body you once thought was solely yours. It has never been anything, but it has always been. Eight eyes watch your work, weaving yourself, even as you are, and always have been, and always will be.
Divine Domains
The Material
Associated with: The Body
