Nimble Arachne threads her needles with razor wire. She crouches spiderlike, scrutinizing her clumsy prey’s approach—scurrying, fluttering, beetling in heavy armor—all victims enmesh. She pounces, lithe limbs gripping, jabbing needles through soft skin, hard muscle, legs, arms, neck, cheek. They hack, slash, scratch uselessly. Her keen filament entwines her catch, stymies their attacks. Struggle forces thread deeper into flesh, tightening around tendon, joint, bone. When her quarry is ensnared, helpless, screaming for mercy, she moves in, delicately bending the neck and with teeth filed to points, snaps a perfect circle from the jugular. Another fly for dinner. Delicious.