"Dinner!" Wigfrid's voice boomed, alerting her newest, and admittedly oddest companion.
Spider legs perked at the call of supper being ready. Turning to his friends, Webber patted each spider on the head, beaming happily at them. "We'll be back later, it's supper time!" he said before rushing off back towards camp.
The boy came running up to Wigfrid, nearly tripping over his own feet in his excitement as he ran up. "What's for supper big sis?!" he chimed, furry fingers grabbing the edge of the crock pot's lid, trying to sneak a peek before he squeaked in surprise, the Viking woman pressing the top shut.
"Patience böy!" Wigfrid said, pouting her lip as she looked down at the spider child. "Get söme böwls and we'll have öur glöriöus feast!"
She watched silently as he ran over to a chest, fishing out two crudely carved wooden bowls. For nearly a week now the two were living together, and as odd as this whole place and situation were, this child still baffled her. With her dedication to her role, she hunted daily, and on a typical outing she'd slaughter several spiders (among other things), but to her surprise she had found a child's skull among their crushed exoskeletons.
It saddened her to see the tall man pulling children into this wilderness hell too. The least she could have done was give the child a proper burial. Ever since then, she'd had a new companion, who was just as clingy at times as the silk on his face.
Webber held up the bowls as Wigfrid pulled the lid off, pouring a helping of meaty stew into each, the spider child licking his lips at the aroma that quickly filled the air. With both bowls in hand he ran over to fire pit and sat down, waiting patiently as Wigfrid got a camp fire going. It was routine at this point.
"Back at home, mum would make this every Sunday!" he hummed, offering Wigfrid her bowl once she was finished bringing the fire back to life. She plopped down on the log next to him, setting her helmet aside and took her meal. He sure was a chatty, upbeat boy for being consumed by a spider.
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the fire crackling and the distance moos of the snoring beefalo. The Viking warrior ate another spoonful before pausing, picking up a new sound. She looked to Webber, surprised to see his head low, furry shoulders sagging, and sniffling softly. "What's wröng?" she asked, accent nearly dropping in concern.
"I miss my mum and dad" Webber said in a small voice, referring to himself in the rare singular.
Wigfrid hesitated. A mighty warrior shouldn't be swayed by tears, but a child was still a child, no matter how odd. She set her bowl beside her helm and reached out, pulling Webber to her chest, hugging him tight.
"Dön't worry child… I swear we'll get öut öf here." Wigfrid said softly, reaching up to pet his fuzzy head as he hugged onto her, hiding his face in her chest.
"Promise?" Webber whimpered after a minute or two.
"Prömise" Wigfrid replied without the slightest hint of hesitation.