[He's pretty sure the fact that it came from inside of him makes him the spider's creator-host more than a friend, but whether or not he's mother to by now a hundred spiders is not a discussion really wants to have. He doesn't argue.

Michael extends his hand towards the plant and lets his fist open. The spider makes a path to the tip of a finger, then leaps onto a leaf.]

Thank you on her behalf.

[There's not a lot going on inside of a spider's brain so this is mostly creative interpretation on his part. Humans, though, are something else entirely, even more complicated than their vast nervous systems suggest they ought to be.]

Initially I found the concept of flesh and blood creatures a little dubious, but you're an inspired design, I'll admit.

[The next question gives him pause, and Michael tilts his head at Claire. It's not that he minds telling her—he's told people he likes far less—but he wonders if she'll believe it. Only one way to find out.]

Heaven.

[He means it very literally, but he leaves Claire to her interpretation. Maybe she'll simply think he's mad.]