Startled but alert, the man-child rose instantly. Moving to join her at the entrance, what he saw filled him with fierce pride. For there in the distance, perched majestically in dark silhouette against a fading sky, his eyes perceived the outline of the Mantis, undisputed monarch of the Valley. Even at that distance he could read its features clearly: the stately upper body, the foreclaws held so effortlessly, and the smallish, triangular head, pivoting easily to scan the domain that was his and his alone. 'The Mantis!' he exclaimed, trying hard to keep his voice down. 'Now we will see what happens to those foolish enough to cross him!' * The Mantis remained motionless, breathing hard. Though capable of flying great distances, the sheer weight of its body made such journeys an exhausting ordeal. He was weary to his very heart. But the Mantis was also a master of stamina and self-discipline. He knew he had only to rest a short time and his strength would come back to him. He had landed on the ridge intentionally. It had been many days since he last slept in the cave, and he wanted to be sure there was no danger. Not that he was afraid---in his conscious thought he feared nothing. He simply had no desire to encounter a powerful enemy before regaining his full strength. But as the breaths began to come easier, he felt his antennae tingling with anticipation. Somewhere. . .somewhere near, he sensed the presence of a spider. The vibrations seemed to come from the direction of his cave. Realizing the failing light worked against him, he knew he would have to act quickly. Unfurling his four translucent wings, he lifted himself slowly into the air. Hovering closer, he searched for clues while reading the subtle currents of air that curled gently across the windface. He stopped once in mid-air, turned, then surrendering to wind and gravity, swooped down upon the broad ledge that bordered the entrance of the cave. Resting for a moment just beyond its gothic arch, he felt a sullen anger rise within him. Though not a vindictive creature, the thought of an enormous land spider keeping him from the rest and shelter of his lair sent waves of liquid anger pulsing sharply through his veined and veinless body. He did not try to stem the feeling, knowing that in certain measure it gave him strength. He simply allowed the bitterness to occur inside him, strong and distasteful, then waited for the long wisdom of his mind to diffuse it. He did not bemoan his fate, nor think to question the will of the Nameless. He knew what he was, and what he must do. Summoning a courage born of countless similar encounters, he drew in his foreclaws and entered the cave. Surprised and alarmed, the spider reacted in the only way it knew. Feeling trapped, it rushed directly at him. The Mantis methodically yielded his ground, leading it out onto the ledge.