Spider and I (part 5)

I walked the rest of the night, past the dawn, and into the morning. Spider was hungry. I was hungry. I shed tears for my parents, but could I hate him? Last night, he was so helpless—just an old man stumbling in the road. The air felt colder, inviting winter. The weather would work against us soon; we needed to find a spot to hold up for the long, dark months. I wove through rows of little houses—little bungalows tucked behind fading trees. Eventually I had to go back, and I was empty...