Haunted Wood winter is coming

For all her impulsiveness and concealed wickedness, the thing Spider craved most in the world was affection— adoration. Servitude.

She would do anything to achieve these things, even care for the hapless and put herself in harm's way; if only for a brief reprieve from the cold, cold void she presently felt like a cocoon in her breast. A blackness, deeper still than her fathomless coat, stretched and yawned inside of her. It threatened to consume her— or maybe it already had— and this was why she chased, and clung, and obsessed and felt utterly dissatisfied unless she had survived something risky.

Spider crawled into him willingly, feeling the iced fringes of her pelt succumb immediately to snowmelt as she tried to bury herself in the thick of his chest.