It is so very few of those like me aggressively leave sanctity of home in conquest seeking conflict gleefully, attacking others everywhere they roam. Though true, we all have body segments two, with legs of eight seem creepily to crawl, and from behind, a sticky string some spew our web we weave, insects in flight to stall. Reclusively we live our way survive. Too big to eat, we seldom try to bite a human when confront. Instead we thrive if hide and there remain till dark of night. So when in fear you wish my head to tread my kin, recall, provides silk garments thread.