The Spider and the Butterfly

Chapter Eighteen

The snow had reached about 3 feet in height. The human village wasn't struggling very much, considering they had wisely prepared for this sort of thing. They had plenty of food and warm fires of their own.

The bugs of Ridpath, however, had to be very strict about how much they could eat out of their stores. Unlike Fang, their metabolisms didn't slow down to the extent of not needing to eat PERIOD. The insects weren't survivalists like the spider. They still suffered from hunger pangs, but fortunately, nobody died.

It was primarily the cold that was concerning for them. They had dug their homes fairly deep into the ground, but the chilling snow still sunk into the soil.

Sage and Morales, along with the ants, were flourishing. They were the only grasshopper and cricket with enough sense to take shelter in time. And all of their other friends migrated. So, they worked for food. And despite being an oftentimes lazy creature, Sage for once didn't complain.

Daisy had slowly opened her eyes, gazing into the fireplace. Oh, that's right...she remembered. I married Fang. The butterfly smiled, feeling the spider's arms around her. He sounded asleep, judging from his slow breathing. Fang purred, kissing the back of Daisy's neck.

In response, the butterfly fluttered her wings a bit. Fang giggled. She did it again. The spider woke up chuckling. "Daisy, that tickles!" he said. Sitting up, Fang asked, "Do you need some nectar, darling?"

The butterfly nodded, doing her best to sit up too. "Alright," Fang murmured. He got one of the many jars they kept and opened the lid, holding the jar while Daisy fed.

After she was finished, the spider put the jar back and lay next to her. "It might get pretty boring in here," he admitted. "Once you read the same books several times in a row or hear the same musical piece. It'll get rather monotonous. Ridpath doesn't happen to have a library, does it?"

"I think it does," Daisy replied. "Maybe you could find stuff there once spring arrives."

Fang smiled, closing his eyes. "That's a good idea..." he whispered. Daisy smiled back, nuzzling into the spider's side. She hummed a beautiful melody to Fang as he stroked her wings with all the tenderness of a lamb.

"I love you, Daisy..." he said.

"I love you too, Fang..." the butterfly replied, kissing him.

Thus passed the next three months. When they weren't being lovey dovey with one another, they were reading or listening to music. That was all they really could do. Then sometimes they slept. Even though Daisy couldn't exactly fly around in Fang's den, the spider made it a point for her to at least exercise so that her wings remained strong. Every day she'd flap them for a few minutes, but it was sufficient.

Sometimes Fang sang to Daisy, or she'd sing to him. They'd bath one another with the water reservoir, then curl up by the fireplace to dry. No spider before or after Fang had ever felt the amount of love he felt in his heart for Daisy, and the same went for her. In fact, when she asked him, Fang told her all the tales that he heard from the insects of Ridpath.