The landscape that accompanied this wink of time was misleading. Everything about it circulated placidity, much like the surface of the lake. From the sounds of nature, the gentle breeze, and the agreeable temperature. It was all so picturesque and ideal. The juxtaposition was undeniable. But it seemed neither of them fell victim to its charm. A testament that communicated volumes, even if neither party was willing to voice it. 

What the vermin lacked in stature, he made up for in grit. Valerna could see it, his defiance and stubbornness. Her drudgery at clutching the reins was contested. The two immersed themselves in battle, albeit a conflict not of the flesh, of crude matter. No, the battlefield was intangible and of the spirit. Would the stranger illustrate himself as a worthy quarry? Regardless of the outcome, the great spinner was intrigued to see how great he'd rise or fall.

The man raised his defenses, presenting a wall to repel the siege of those inquisitive eyes. Even with his best efforts, some things slipped through the gaps. The wanton fire was observable. She felt the man considered her a prize or trophy—some rare catch demanding to be subjugated. If so, the fellow would discover how quiet it is to fall. The acne of male egoism, inherent not in her kind, was reversed. 

While he may have viewed her as a mountain, she envisioned the rat as submissive and breedable. Providentially for the creature, she hadn't deemed him meritorious of a carnal tussle. She might appear a monster on the surface, but Valerna was a proper lady who comprehended her value. She had long since conquered her lesser compunctions and bestial hankerings. That didn't mean temptation never reared itself. The smell of his blood was inebriating. The internal wrangling began, whether to wrap up the morsel for consumption or to crush such wants beneath her heel.

Ultimately, the man was categorized as empty calories and junk food. And the spider before him was watching her figure. Or so she'd tell herself, an inner exchange that invoked a grimace. The Araneae never contemplated how her domineering sights might perturb the man. The prey's feelings seldom penetrated the scope of the hunter. Rude, perhaps. But such was the natural hierarchy and way of the macrocosm. Who were they to oppugn it?

The giant had no inkling about the condition of Veron's mind. Whatever thoughts circulated through that cranium of his remained liberated from her insight. She may have been vigilant, but she wasn't a seer. No amount of flesh or traditions could perforate that thick skull. And even if she had been endowed with such an exalted ability, Valerna would yet respect the sanctity of one's privacy. There were some lines not even she was willing to violate. 

The duo stood close, the vermin maintaining a distance between them. A cushion that likely ameliorated his vexation. Fear was a powerful motivator, yet an all too common shackle. The giantess wasn't offended, quite the opposite; she took it as veneration. The stranger had deemed her a threat and wavered to diminish his guard. She'd brook it all and vest the man his wishful thinking. In actuality, the feet between them weren't a barrier. Her reach was more significant, and the man was in mortal danger should it degrade into a skirmish. 

Ignorance was euphoria, and the boulder by which he crouched behind didn't bolster the man's status. It compromised it. Valerna didn't come here to do battle at the end of worlds. She was a pawn under the yoke of an unfeeling universe—an all too common plight, perhaps even universal. One's acknowledgment of this fact was of no consequence. Our wants and desires never hamper the reality of things. 

Veron spoke, presenting his name along with a title. The meaning eluded her cognitive webbing as she was unfamiliar with the honorifics of this world. That moniker caused her to tilt her head. Valerna was frustrated that the context supplied little in the way of an epiphany. The only thing she had managed to reap from those strings of meaningless words was the prospect of land ownership. If accurate, would that make the brooding one noble? It made sense; the peasantry lacked the luxury to piss away time ambling through the woods all willy-nilly.

The man resumed his loquacity with a much-needed lens. Once upon a time, that suggested he no longer held or cared for such titles. Why, then, even belch them out? Those mortally inclined were fickled things, clinging to the past in some hopeless bid to get high off the fumes of nostalgia. It all culminated with Veron touching and calling focus to his eyepatch. Did he expect her to inquire? Why would she? What benefit did such a line of inquisition offer her? Little outside of a history lesson meant to stoke the flames of a broken man's ego. 

Valerna's amber eyes didn't bother to follow the lead. Those eyelids tapered as she sharpened her glare. That split oral muscle rotated, her lips piercing as she waited for the man to conclude. The spider raised her groomed brows. Could it be not only had an eye been visibly robbed of him, but his hearing or ability to recollect as well? She had given her name first. Was it his intention to ask what she was instead of who? 

The giant clicked her tongue before sealing her lips shut. Throughout the ordeal, her spinal growths never refrained from preening her hair. They'd eventually halt before closing themselves inward and relaxing against her back. Her hand still grasped at her hips as she deliberated if there was a point regurgitating the same answer. But on the off chance he suffered from some cognitive impairment, she would. 

"Who am I? I already answered that; I'm Valerna Jorgenskull. If you meant to ask what I am, that is infinitely more enthralling of an inquiry." She paused, raising her hand before motioning as if shooing away a fly.

"Who and what I am hold no bearing over this place. The imprints I left aren't visible from this space. I could bore you with my history. I could fling a slew of names that hold no meaning over you. But I'm not interested in such things. Feel free to stroke your ego off if you wish. But I will provide you a truthful answer." She replied with a smile. A faint pause left ample room for a deep breath as she continued her response.

"I'm a voyager. Nothing more, nothing less. I know, it's boring. But what did you expect? Some grand mystery to be revealed? For me to drop an earth-shattering revelation? You'd be wise to dismiss such notions. Ultimately, when all else fails, there is only you. Add as much fat and meat, but the bone is all that's left in the end. And even that can't last forever." She answered, knowing it wouldn't fill Vernon's spirit with excitement. There was no lie, merely a reduction of a truth. 

"Tell me, what is a king, and are we near or at Nesthome? Should I be alarmed or impressed at my fortune? I'm not arrogant enough to believe myself to be the apex. Surely there must be something greater lurking within or beyond these woods." She questioned with a smirk, presenting the man with her pearly fangs.