An amazingly, ridiculously large spider ran across the floor in front of me.

The skin on his hand tingled, as if a thousand tiny spiders ran along his flesh.

The fires were spreading, and the spider ran frantically along its network of zones.

At the same moment a small spider ran across the back of his fingers and was captured.

His cheek lay on the sand; a spider ran quickly by.

These spiders run about rapidly in search of their prey.

When the spider ran out, he stomped it.

Yet when he fell dead, a spider, like the god at Yezud, only smaller, ran out of his fingers.

A spider ran over his face but didn't disturb him.

A spider, her web disarranged probably for the first time in generations, ran for cover.