>Not the most ideal outcomes, given our opponent.
>Hold our position for now, wait until it gives us an opportunity to land on its back and stab it in the head.
>You'd really rather not risk botching your sneak attack.
>You remain still in hopes that the spider presents a better opportunity to strike. After what begins to feel like an interminable pause on its part, it turns and starts to move south at a less cautious pace than earlier. This causes it to pass nearly directly underneath the branch you are standing on. You leap!
>The branch sways beneath your feet as you spring from it, leaves rustling nosily from the motion. The spider reacts to the sound immediately, quickly turning about to face it. Its head shifts wide of your aim as you plummet towards it, limbs and open ground taking its place as the spider rotates. It gives a sharp cry of recognition.
>You angle the pitchfork to the side as the ground rushes up at you and manage to catch the spider in the side of its abdomen before it moves out of range entirely. You feel but a moment's resistance as the tines strike its exoskeleton and then the sink wetly into its body as far as they can go. The spider's first cry is replaced with something far more tortured. The pitchfork levers downward under your weight as gravity refuses to relinquish you, but your impact with the ground is halted abruptly when your weapon refuses to shift further, leaving you dangling from the haft protruding from the spider's body. The spider starts to rush forward, shrieking, its legs scurrying so close as to nearly brush against you.
