"Hm? Oh, very well." Tarantulas reaches out, placing one of his spider's claws in Chris's arm -- not to shrink and crawl into their hand, as they might have expected, but to grow to the size of a horse instead and gently lift them onto his back. The thick fur (setae, technically) covering his abdomen will make for decent handholds; he directs Chris to hold on tight before returning to the rooftops, carrying them away until he can no longer hear the ghost's weeping.

"Are you injured?" he finally stops to ask, tilting his head up to peer at them upside with his many eyes. "Should I take you to one of the clinics?"