Upon reaching the mouse hole, Rowan rested his hands on his sides, bending over slightly as he gasped air into his lungs, discovering that it was a little easier to breathe in that position than if he had simply stood straight. At least, there was some air to cool him, wafting on his right side so that his warmed body had some relief after that run. While he recovered, his pulse and the sound of his own ragged breathing in his ears, the blond was able to hear the boom of their much larger compatriots although it was difficult to hear just what was being said over his own bodily sounds. He did his best to quieten his breathing, straining to hear. Sephira's voice sounded deeper but it wasn't as deep as Charlie's and so he was able to discern that she believed the shop owner had done something to them. He wished that he could march out of the mouse hole and explain what was going on but he didn't really have that option; an actual mouse would be more noticeable right now than him.
However, as he glanced back towards the booming voices, his body tensed, a looming shape showing that they had other more immediate problems than informing the Element where they'd gotten to. What dropped onto the ground before them, having slid down on a silken thread, was a spider. However, even with the low lighting it was clear that it was no ordinary arachnid. Like most things in the shop, this one was wooden and given the nature of their recent host, it probably shouldn't have come as a surprise to see it. If Charlie's formal mistress had been talented enough to make something sentient and humanoid, why couldn't she make a simple spider with very nasty looking fangs?
The young man straightened, taking a cautious step backwards in case a sudden move made it lunge, fingers tightening around the hatchet that he still held in hand. A hatchet that he was now very glad hadn't been spirited away into his companion's bag like his rope.
"Amaris, we need to move slowly and-" he began to whisper but too late, the carved insect was already on the offensive, aiming for their taller companion. The young man had used a hatchet before but for practical tasks like chopping wood for his mother's fire, not as a weapon. Well, it was wooden so it wasn't that different, he guessed although the wood looked hard.
He wrapped his other hand around its handle, turning his body slightly away from the creature so that when he swung, swivelling at the hips, it'd have a bit more momentum, a slightly harder impact - at least, he hoped so! The shape of the handle helped him index where the blade was and thus, he felt confident that when he let fly, the blade would actually hit something. He swung at a slight diagonal, aiming for the top of one of its front legs, hoping that even if he didn't catch the limb, it might go up into its body. The legs were the narrowest part on the creature and likely the most vulnerable, wooden or not. He'd seen many fleshy spiders fall foul of children and cats who made their limbs buckle at unnatural angles or broke them off altogether.
"Timber!" he roared, throwing all his force, rage and frustration behind it. He had no idea if spiders could hear but if they could, he hoped that he scared the shit out of it.