>Back toward the north and the hill.
>You leave the spider to its flight and head northward. The sounds of its travel are evident for a short while before they fade into the distance.
>As you walk, you grimly note that the tines of your pitchfork are thoroughly ichor-coated, and spotted with the occasional bit of...
something that probably belongs on the inside of a spider. Once you think you're safely out of range of any second thoughts the spider might have, you take a moment and clean it on a suitable bush. It is... somewhat improved for your efforts, though only somewhat. Wryly, you ponder the futility of cleaning a weapon that may only meet the innards of another spider in a few minutes. Still, at least you don't have to smell it as much in the meantime.
>Soon enough, the gentle rise of the terrain grows rapidly steeper until it is too sheer to walk up. The hill face is about half exposed rock, dotted with small patches of thin soil and the occasional scrawny tree.
Glancing around, it appears to continue this way for as far as you can see in both directions. Of course, with all the tree cover, this isn't much. Sizing up the rock face, you think you could climb it with a little difficulty, although there may be a more accessible path further along. The pitchfork may be something of an issue with the former plan, however.