"Isn't it? That's good then, that's very good." Tarantulas chuckles wheezily himself. "That means my efforts to turn over a new leaf are working, how delightful. You see," he explains, sidling slowly closer. "I'm afraid I used to be a rather, hyeh, naughty sort of person. Always getting into things I shouldn't, breaking the laws of physics for fun, that sort of thing. I'm afraid quite a lot of people were hurt because my decisions. But that's all behind me now. Dying rather changed my perspective..."

His spider's-head dips low, pedipalps nearly brushing the ground. "It's not an easy thing, to look back at your life and realize you wasted it all...to see that, despite interference from others, you yourself are the real reason you never got to keep the thing you wanted most...How lucky, how truly fortunate I am, to get a chance to turn things around now...That's why I've been working so hard to be good, you see. To earn my place here, hyeh, legally, ethically, courteously...all above board...which rather begs the question, don't you think?"

And then he suddenly leaps at Angel, growing in mid-air until he's nearly the size of a horse, and slams into Angel, pressing him down into the ground with a clawed foreleg. He shoves his face into Angel's, fangs at the ready, and hisses the demand: "Why are you following me?"