Bee Brave (Solo Seasonal)

With help from Ardyn’s nimble paws and Ayodele, he had a basket hanging from his jaws by a woven handle. It had a tight-sealing top, but would allow airflow. This was important, because he had plans for this basket. He trotted along now, tail amiably waving in the air behind him, eyes following the subtle trail of bees, ears perked to follow the faint buzzing.

His hope was to find a swarm that had splintered from an established native honey bee hive. The basket held some comb from the hive in the tree at home. He hoped to have these next bees establish in the basket first, and then, hopefully, they would splinter when their little hive was full, and build more hives. With luck, the healers of Valhalla would have plenty of honey to work with, and the rest of the pack would have an occasional sweet treat.

The buzzing was louder, and finally, he spotted a lobular dark clump hanging on a low brash. At first glance it wasn’t anything to look at, but on closer inspection, the blob squirmed and crawled with bees. The whole thing was bees.

He was in luck! However, on closer inspection, he found that they’d been there long enough to establish new comb and even cap some of it. It looked like there were about three slots of comb, and as he gently nudged the bees aside with a paw, he saw wriggling larvae in some of the chambers. The Queen was healthy and active, then.

Though the ladies were less than thrilled at the intrusion, for the time being they didn’t sting him, and he went about shifting the basket under the newling hive, opening the lid. He honestly wished he had paws like the kids, or Iolaire, for that matter. This was going to be difficult enough just escaping a good stinging.

Still, the Valhallan made do. Raising his paws, and sitting up on his haunches in a classic ‘begging’ position, he hooked the claws of one bracer over the top of the branch the hive had formed on, pulling it down as far as he could. The closer he could get the hive to the basket, the less infuriated the bees would be when her sliced their home free of the branch.

Carefully, now… he angled his left paw sideways, working the sharp claw of his index toe along the branch’s underside, carefully parting the comb from the hive. It was fresh enough that it sliced easily.

With a soft thump, the first piece of comb dropped into the basket, and the bees exploded into the air around him with a furious, ominous buzz that vibrated his ears, which he quickly flattened as several angry scouts landed on him, trying to sting him. Luckily, they’d only reached his armor, but he wouldn’t be lucky for long.

He was conflicted as to whether he should raise his hackles or leave them flat. Would the bees manage to get into his fur if the hackles were up? He shuddered, but persevered as the indignant swarm engulfed him. Another piece dropped into the basket, and the bear claw dripped with honey.

They found him, and he yipped then bit off the noise with a hiss as pain flared over his face, nose and jowls. It was sucky as hell, but he only needed to get a last piece of the comb off and into the basket. Squinting, he thought he spotted the long rump of the queen just before the comb she was clinging to dropped into the basket. With none left on the branch, he let it swing free of his bracer claw and dove away from the basket, bolting for the nearest water source in the Moorish estuary.

Birds scattered around him, and angry honey bees pursued him until he found a stream deep enough and dove in, headlong, and lay flat, armor and all, in the water. He even held his breath and submerged his throbbing head.

His face ached and the cool water helped some, and once he came up for air, the bees had given up, retreating back to their hive. He had only to wait until they calmed, now. He was reasonably certain he’d gotten the Queen, and once the alarm faded, they’d surely follow her and the brood into the basket. Once the day faded into evening, they would hopefully all have returned to the hive, found it moved to the basket nearby, and trooped into the container.

The wait was agony, and he made use of some of the pain killing herbs in his armor pouches. If he could have seen his face he’d have been laughing uncontrollably. His lips were fully swollen; his nose too. It gave him a remarkably goofy, sheepish look, canines peeking from swollen jowls.

Finally, the herbs took effect, and he rose from the water as the evening deepened enough that the bees should all be asleep, and hopefully settled in their new home.

Cautiously, he slogged, dripping, back to the hive and peered through the dark. A few clumped on the branches their hive had been attached to, but the rest he could hear fanning in the basket. Success. Gently he nudged the last couple of clumps into the basket. Sleepy and cold from the night air, they went without a fight, joining their kin. Groaning, he closed the lid over the bees, bending and snatching up a bite of comb that had missed the basket and savoring the flavor of the prize he’d suffered for before picking up the handle in his abused jaws and began the slog home. He was thoroughly sore, but he was pleased with his sacrifice’s results.

Word count: 954

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think