He slept fitfully. In the darkness, his markings washed away, just a pale form taking shelter in the roots, turned silver blue and bruise dark by moonlight and shadow.
A shudder here and there, it seemed always like he was about to wake but he kept sleeping with the cicada song ringing all around him. He dreamed, but no one watching would be able to tell what it was that chased his mind if anything at all. Perhaps he just simply didn't sleep well.
If anyone could tell, it would the spider that had crawled up a nearby tree, its eyes glowing ominously bright in the dark. Just a touch and his memories, being created constantly, could be caught in her web. But she didn't take memories--she sometimes asked for them, but now she simply watched him. Her spider mind, quiet instinct, kept her still.
Finally though, she moved, eight legs moving silently to bring her further up the tree until she was hanging from an overhanging branch. She was mostly spider, her kin mind somewhere far away. Still, she sent a passing thought, almost careless except she was, "May your children sleep peacefully."
Then she was gone.