An Intricate Web of Careful Plot and Design

I am an incredibly small thing, thought a spider, as he roamed a forest of moss and leaf, crawling through stick and thicket, over stone and mountainside.

And the world... now that is quite big.

This was a rather important day in the life of this particular being, and being myself, I would like to make this momentous occasion known to the world of you.

Somehow, I am here, he thought. I am significant; I make a difference. I eat a moth, and one million unseen consequences inevitably unfold around me. I do not eat the moth, one million unseen consequences inevitably unfold around us both.

But just as such, if I allow the moth to consume me, one million more unseen consequences will inevitably unfold around him.

The thought intrigued him like none had done before.

What is life? What is death? How can my death be life for another, just as his death means life for myself? Why must there be death in order for there to be life? Is there not a way for us both to have life, without wishing death upon the other?

Just then, a moth landed upon a flower, just inches from his nest.

Good moth, he entreated, have you an answer for a curious spider?

Good spider, he responded, my instincts instruct me to avoid you as if life my depended upon it. My answer is no; for you, I have no answer.

The spider understood this point, but persisted nonetheless.

Good moth, mine inquiry this day pertains to exactly that! MUST we always yield to these frivolous instincts? MUST we live in constant fear of untimely demise, simply for another's hope of continued existence? Dear brother, we are both one in the same innovative mind! Just as another, less philosophically conscious spider may at any moment come down from this tree and impale you without warning, so might a bird do the same to me without trace of mope or quobble! For us, life is a gift, a gift to remain protected.

The spider paused for a moment, giving the moth time to think on these new and possibly revolutionary words. What could the spider be getting at, the moth sat and thought.

Come unto my house. Come, and we shall see what consequences we may unfold, being together, yet not in the name death.

The moth approached slowly. It was indeed an exciting thought: life without fear of at least one, one who he had, just minutes before, marked in his mind as his potential killer.

He flitted to the thicket's edge, and with the utmost caution, stretched out his legs, and touched down upon an intricate web of careful plot and design.

The spider lived happily ever after.