don't worry bee happy

The log was giving him a bit more trouble than he had anticipated. When Sunder had first laid eyes on it he had assumed by the rotting underside and heavy moss growth that the tree had been down for many, many years. Now he was not so sure. The wood still had a strong grip; time had not yet worn it down to the barely held together sawdust stage he had first assumed it to be at. That was a shame, he'd been hoping for an easy heist, but this was the lot he had to deal with and Sunder wasn't one to complain. Rather, he would keep working it and settle for hoping it broke easy while he did his best to make it happen that way.

Sunder pushed down on the open edges of the log in short spurts. He would push and relax; pausing to gauge both the damage done and the state of the bees. Then he would press again. In this way he continued for several seconds, more or less "rocking" the thin edge away from the main body. Only once did he stop completely. Sunder could feel bees crawling on his back and in a moment of chilling panic, froze in place. After a beat he unstuck his tongue and muttered in a low, deliberately calm voice, so as not to stir up the bees, "Canya getda bees off my back?" He wasn't talking to anyone in particular. He just wanted them off before they started stinging. Sunder had heard that once one was moved to sting, the rest nearby would join in.

Knowing their time was limited, he then forced himself to continue before either had a chance to help him. He just needed to get it done and trust that these strangers cared enough about their deal to see to it he wouldn't have a reason to bail on the project early. Sunder then pressed down on the log firmly. This time he was rewarded with a dull pop that signaled the the thin side had cracked. "An' we in," he breathed before gently pushing the entrance wider and inserting a stick to hold it open. With his paws free he then could reach inside and pick at the comb. He was so excited by this that the growing activity of the bees was lost on him. The break in the wood had not been lost on the hive and the worker bees were beginning to work their way up from the bowels of the log in search of the reason for the disturbance. Any second now they would begin to take flight...

WC: 441