Bees vs Sirius

The beehive had formed seemingly overnight, not far from the den he called home. A small tree that sat peacefully to the North of the back of their house. Away from the ocean, and directly in the main path used to walk towards the communal spaces of the pack. The bees had already seemed to spread out from the hive, pollinating flowers and buzzing about his ears. Their new presence annoyed him, their buzzing was unwelcome, and, completely unrelated, when he went to investigate it the first time they left him with unpleasant surprises. He could still feel the itchy scabs in his coat where they had managed to penetrate his thick hide.

Namely on places he was already scared, and the fur didn’t grow through as thick. On his legs, where his coat was lightest, and even one extremely agitating sting on the tip of his muzzle. He had only been interested in seeing what honey would taste like. He hadn’t expected them to throw a stink.

Now, he was thinking that pieces of their hive might make for an interesting study for his lealer, Io, and that some drizzled honey might be a tasty treat for his beloved Wife. his intention on knocking down the Hive was entirely academic.

After first contact, he was leery about jumping right in without a plan, so he went away and spoke to Io and others, and learnt what he could about hives, and how they function. He learnt that fermented apples made the bees drunk and slow. He took Io’s cart to the Orchard, and picked what he could of the dropped, old fruit. Once he had fifty apples rolling about the back of the cart, he hitched himself to it once more, and made his way home.

He unloaded a short way from the hive, rolling the apples in the general direction of the hive, so a small trail of stinking old apples lay in an uneven row from the cart to the tree. He returned the cart to his sister, and returned to see that some of the little bees had already found his presents. They gorged themselves on the fruit of the apples, and then when they tried to fly away, they were incapable. They flew up a little flipped over, or were simply crawling away.

The Warlord snickered softly at the sight of drunken bees. He went away, leaving them to it. Had walked the border, seeking out the scent so of which of his Reaper candidates was the strongest. He ran some drills, making himself available at the arena for any who wished to practice with him.

He returned to the tree, and wasn’t certain how much of the bee population had taken to the liquor. Steeling himself, Sirius approached the tree, and began to work his way up the tree. Using his feline-like claws to dig into the bark and pull himself upwards. He got near the bee hive, when they spilled free, and began to sting him. He leapt free of the tree with an agitated snarl, and ran. He ran to the ocean and plunged in, drowning any bees that had gotten caught in his coat. He didn’t go deep enough to lose his purchase in the sand. He wasn’t much of a swimmer, after all.
When he crawled back to shore, soaking wet and with the temper of a bear woken from hibernation, the Warlord began to hatch plan B.

Smoke was the key, it was a blanket affect that would reach all the bees, instead of some few. He spoke to his Sister, knowing she had the most experience with building fires. She had built the fire pit in the communal area. Armed with her knowledge, but refusing her aid, the Warlord would return to the Hive. eyeing it with distrust, he would begin to dig up the earth beneath the tree. He layered sand in the hole, and across the sides, a substance readily available in his pack.

With the base complete, he would lay branches, dry old things that just about broke apart in his teeth, and heavy soggy ones. He places leaves and greenery around it, wanting as much smoke as he could muster. The occasional bee came to investigate his work, and he ignored their annoying buzzing. When the fire started, he stepped back, watching it heat the wet branches, and the start of the steam began.

It took a while for the fire to heat up the wet branches enough, but once it really started, the smoke was intense, he had to move away in order to breath clear air. He watched as the smoke snaked upwards, and the dark fingers of it wrapped about the hive. He watched with dark amusement as the bees collapsed from the scent of it. He returned to the hive, dosing the fire with water, kicking sand over the wood until the fire was smothered. He then moved to the hive, picking it up and placing it onto the cart. He raced out of the territory with it, relocating the bees into the woods.

He took a nice sample of honey, and broke off some of the honey-comb wall of the hive. The bees could relocate or fix their home, so long as they did it outside of the Armada. With his prizes in hand, he would return home. Victorious after his battle with the bees. The stings in his hide still red and sore. He wasn’t going to be allowed to forget these bastards any time soon. One jar of honey he presented to Io, along with the honey-comb from the hive. She could add it to her collection of herbs, or sample it herself. He didn’t mind, the gift was for her. Her knowledge had been vital in taking out this minor threat in the Armada. With the other remaining jar of honey would find its way to his Wife’s space in their shared den.