Or, failing a net, any sort of blanket or large cloth might do in a pinch. Just so long as it's something that might be thrown over the goose to disorient it.

[The harbor seems like as good a place as any to start, though.]

Well, what will it be? Shall we go investigate Bluo, as suggested?

Opisthosoma, actually. The arse is more of a mammalian trait, evolutionarily speaking.

[Is this really a topic of conversation we're having? YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT IS.

...Or is that, you butt-er believe it is? Heh-heh-heh.

Still, with a flash of blue magic and a sound like glass shattering, Ignis reaches into the air and abruptly draws his spelldaggers from the armiger, holding them loose and easy in his hands.]

Regardless, I'm quite ready, thank you. The sooner we eliminate this menace, the safer the town will be for it.

Those would be spinnerets. And I feel quite certain that science has yet to come up with a name for the arse of a lady spider in particular, if only because I doubt anyone has ever come up with a tactful way of inquiring after their butts, much less the sorts of things they shoot out of them.

[How he says that with a straight face, the world will never know. But regardless. Now sufficiently armed and ready, let's proceed forward into the woods, shall we?]

Hardly an appropriate topic, for a lady.

[His arm comes out like a barricade when he catches his own glimpse of the webs, and when the sound of the female voice starts to echo; carefully, but with the sort of quiet strength that leaves no room for debate, he stops Noct with an outstretched arm across the chest and motions for silence, trying to gauge the direction the giggling is coming from.]

Keep watch above us. Our prey may try to get the drop on us — quite literally.