spidrens

anonymous asked:

I don't suppose you had any pictures/references on spidrens? I can't find any. And if spidrens use weapons, would that mean that their legs are more humany so that they can double as hands?

As far as I can tell, Tammy made them up, so finding references on them isn’t going to be possible? You’ll probably have to go look up pictures of big hairy spiders and figure out their anatomy and then glue a human head on there somewhere.

As for your second question, I’d never really thought of that! I suppose it’s possible, seeing as how spiders don’t have anything resembling hands. What do you think, followers?

“One of the two male spidrens exploded. The female spidren shrieked and kicked Daine to the ground behind her. The girl squinted. What had happened? One spidren was gone, blown to pieces.

In the splatter of black blood that was his remains stood Numair. Livid with rage, he raised his staff as the female spidren reared.”

(apologies if it’s too dark ;;;; this scene stuck with me a lot tho just imagine really what he must’ve been thinking, poor baby)

fullsize

flats

The realm. In her time as a squire she had seen more of it than most people knew existed, from the damp and mossy streets of Pearlmouth to Northwatch Fortress. She had hunted pirates in the west, built up dams against floods in the east. Mountains, green valleys, desert–she had ridden or walked in them all, measuring them with blisters and grit. Was this what was meant by “the realm”? Or was it other things: a little girl with a muddy doll, Buchard of Stone Mountain livid with grief and rage, a king who admitted a law was wrong, Lalasa in her bustling shop with pins in her mouth. If they were the realm, then so too were griffins, sparrows, dogs ugly and beautiful, Stormwings, foul- and sweet-tempered horses, spidrens.
If she owed duty to the realm, then it was not the dry, withered thing it sounded in people’s mouths. Duty was what was owed, good parts and bad, to keep the realm growing, to keep it as fair as life could be kept. Duty was an old man, snug in his fur-lined robe, snoring lightly somewhere behind her.
—  Squire, book three of Protector of the Small
Another "reading to the kids" story.

I read the first chapter of Protector of the Small (another of Tamora Pierce’s girl knights of Tortall books) to both girls the other day. In it, the hero Kelandry sees a bunch of local ruffians throwing a sack into the river, and she sets out to rescue the creatures inside it.

Owlet: That’s mean.
Ninja: I hope it’s kittens!
Owlet, enraptured: KITTENS!

Kel runs off the boys but before she can wade out and retrieve the sack from the sandbar, a centaur-sized monster with the body of a spider and a human head shows up and snares the bag with its web. It pulls in the sack, opens it, and

Girls: GAPE IN HORROR.
Me, shutting book: And at this point the spidren eats a kitten, kids.

Kel throws rocks and runs the monster off. It climbs up the cliff on the other side of the river, and she follows it but gets stuck half-way up. It opens the bag again and

Girls: OH NO. SERIOUSLY? NO!
Me: Yup, so it eats another kitten.
Owl, to Ninja: THIS IS YOUR FAULT YOU SAID YOU WANTED IT TO BE KITTENS
Ninja: I was counting on a rescue!

The forces of good show up and rescue both Kel (who has a fear of heights she will need to work on until she can do her own animal rescuing later in the book) and the remaining five kittens. Kel takes them to the cook “who knew what to do with small animals.”

Me: She’s going to put them in a pie.
Girls: MOOOOMMM! STOP THAT!
Me: She doesn’t put them in a pie. Should I find a different book?
Girls: No!