Greatwater Lake a bad penny always turns up

backdated about a week or so

Tarantula skulked back towards the lake without any fruit for his labor.

None of his family, not even those budding on dispersal age, had come back with him as he had intended; they feared the change or otherwise did not trust him to lead. His mistress did not speak -- did not seem to care for more than feasting and fighting -- so he did not inform her of the impromptu trip to bolster their numbers. His failure was his own.

His pelt carried the scents of many -- the scents of those who had refused him. But he also carried a great bird with him, a heron, for the pregnant matriarch. A gift, perhaps, to alleviate the hurt of his long absence. Something he would atone for as long as it took.