Though by now proficient in the language's usage, Souta couldn't boast a thorough or even good knowledge of English idioms or sayings—and he likely never would.  Yet, he did know one that ran through his head more than once during the long, uncomfortable, humid trek through the jungle to find some spiders: [i]misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.[/i]  The demon who accompanied him, who aside from simply being a demon also almost certainly had opposed both humanity and the Council in the past, gave Souta the creeps.  It was saying something, then, that he couldn't decide whether he liked Gideon or Wrath less.  In the smith's last mission the Nephilim had flown his true colors, not just entertaining but engaging in the notion of betraying the Charred Council he supposedly worked for in order to side with that stuck-up asshat, Kushiel.  Wrath might not think anything of it, but as far as Souta was concerned he could drop dead, and when he bothered he made sure to wear an expression that indicated as such.  By the time that skittering, many-legged and many-eyed monsters appeared in the underbrush, Souta found himself thankful for the company.

A few moments later, the Broodmother herself made an appearance.  Despite all that he had pictured, Souta felt an inkling of disappointment that this monster seemed to be a fairly ordinary spider, if one put aside her size.  Though he couldn't fathom whether or not the Broodmother would appreciate it, he put on the sort of polite and interested expression he often sported around clients, listening like a professional to what she told his group.  At its conclusion he noted with some humor that even more of his expectations proved incorrect, for instead of escorting the immense arachnid to Aquapolis themselves it looked like they were on mook elimination duty.  [i]That[/i], Souta thought, [i]suits me just fine.[/i]  A lone human might not look like much alongside warriors of the other worlds in a desperate struggle or critical assault on a single, powerful target, but against many weaker enemies he could shine.  Since he didn't know what form the 'corrupted beings' that the Broodmother mentioned took, he instead imagined himself blowing spiderlings to pieces with his brand-new hardware.  It was an enjoyable fantasy.

[color=teal]“Sounds like a plan, ma'am,”[/color] Souta piped up following her last statement.  [color=teal]“We'll have this horde in stinkin', burned-up little chunks before lunchtime.  See ya soon.”[/color]  With that, all that remained was to catch up to his two 'allies' and continue trailing the spiders until it was time to party.