Phantom Hollow There's a grain of truth in every fairy tale.

A thread with mama, maybe?

Day five since he'd been forced from the womb, and Venamis had already changed rapidly. He'd grown considerably, fattened by drinking more than his fill of mother's milk whenever the opportunity presented itself. The young Melonii drank to ease the ache of hunger that often unsettled him, drank when he felt vulnerable or afraid, drank when he needed lulled to sleep. Most often, he drank purely because he could. With three ravenous littermates, there was much competition and he wanted to survive.

@Nocturnal, likely still delicate from the delivery of her brood, was probably tired of having her delicate undersides tugged and shredded by greedy maws and needle-sharp nails. Venamis was unknowingly guilty of gripping and paddling at teats for fear of a sibling shoving him aside, so desperate he was to keep them for himself.

Luckily for the speckled Consort, it was not the time for her spiderlings to battle over food, and Venamis' jaws parted wide in a mighty yawn as he flopped to the side like a beached whale at his mother's shoulder.