Post by Lucy on Oct 3, 2010 22:19:32 GMT -6
Dasy scampered down the steep hillside, swirls of dust trailing behind her as she galloped to a stop at the base of the tiny gorge. The mouth of a shallow cave, rimmed circularly in stone and marking this a once-civilized place, stood ominously before her like the maw of a vicious hound. She glanced back, swallowing a lump in her throat. The rose-skinned man still stood high on the hill, crossbow resting across his shoulder, head turning from side to side as though he expected some dangerous beast to appear from thin air. This was the third cave they had checked this week, and the third that he would not enter.
She huffed, turning and shrugging her shoulders, fixing the pendant of a nautical star between two fingers, all the while squinting at the dark place in front of her. She and Morgan were an odd pair, she pondered as she took her first steps out of the daylight. While the Beverly was all inked skin, odd colors and piercings, he was simply a plain chubby face beneath a wide leather hat and above a long brown coat. Then again, the Anderson's sense of self-expression was limited to the choice of weapon they carried.
"How miserable," she grimaced, bounding over a waist-high rock.
Dasy didn't carry any weapon of her own. The gouge of a necklace upon her throat, granted to her by her own Clan, was all she needed to know of such things. A finger lifted unconciously to trace along its depth. Instead, she was squinting ahead. This was the cave! She knew it! She didn't know how she knew it, but something rumbled deep in her gut and told her that this was the place.
Or maybe she was just hungry.
Where was the buzzing? Where were the bees swooping in and out of the cave? "They aren't here," a voice called from behind the girl, and she jumped. But she smiled as she recognized that wide-brimmed hat.
"Morgan," she nodded, trying to peel the mask of surprise from her face. He must have felt it too. Something was right about this place, and yet something was so very wrong. It wouldn't be until she heard a crunch beneath her boot that she learned precicely what that was. Dasy gasped in horror, and Morgan raised his crossbow, panning from wall to wall. But it was the floor that had captured the girl's weeping eye. A hundred. No, a thousand yellow and black insects lined the ground curled upon themselves. A massive hive, larger than any she had ever seen, lie broken on the cave floor.
The man stepped backward as Dasy fell to her knees, sniffling. All of their searching, all of their wandering. All for nothing.
"Just leave. Go."
The Anderson would not need to be told twice. Their partnership was until the hive was found. And, unfortunately, it had been. Dasy sat alone, mourning the bees beneath the light of her headlamp, for what felt an eternity. And just as she shifted her legs to rise to her feet, one of the fuzzy little insects began to uncurl. Bz-bzz. Its wings twitched.
And Dasy's eyes filled with glee. It was not a Queen. It would not make mother a new hive for the Beverly Clan. But, the girl realized as she took the tiny bug gently into her open palm, it was hope.
Beverly Clan
She huffed, turning and shrugging her shoulders, fixing the pendant of a nautical star between two fingers, all the while squinting at the dark place in front of her. She and Morgan were an odd pair, she pondered as she took her first steps out of the daylight. While the Beverly was all inked skin, odd colors and piercings, he was simply a plain chubby face beneath a wide leather hat and above a long brown coat. Then again, the Anderson's sense of self-expression was limited to the choice of weapon they carried.
"How miserable," she grimaced, bounding over a waist-high rock.
Dasy didn't carry any weapon of her own. The gouge of a necklace upon her throat, granted to her by her own Clan, was all she needed to know of such things. A finger lifted unconciously to trace along its depth. Instead, she was squinting ahead. This was the cave! She knew it! She didn't know how she knew it, but something rumbled deep in her gut and told her that this was the place.
Or maybe she was just hungry.
Where was the buzzing? Where were the bees swooping in and out of the cave? "They aren't here," a voice called from behind the girl, and she jumped. But she smiled as she recognized that wide-brimmed hat.
"Morgan," she nodded, trying to peel the mask of surprise from her face. He must have felt it too. Something was right about this place, and yet something was so very wrong. It wouldn't be until she heard a crunch beneath her boot that she learned precicely what that was. Dasy gasped in horror, and Morgan raised his crossbow, panning from wall to wall. But it was the floor that had captured the girl's weeping eye. A hundred. No, a thousand yellow and black insects lined the ground curled upon themselves. A massive hive, larger than any she had ever seen, lie broken on the cave floor.
The man stepped backward as Dasy fell to her knees, sniffling. All of their searching, all of their wandering. All for nothing.
"Just leave. Go."
The Anderson would not need to be told twice. Their partnership was until the hive was found. And, unfortunately, it had been. Dasy sat alone, mourning the bees beneath the light of her headlamp, for what felt an eternity. And just as she shifted her legs to rise to her feet, one of the fuzzy little insects began to uncurl. Bz-bzz. Its wings twitched.
And Dasy's eyes filled with glee. It was not a Queen. It would not make mother a new hive for the Beverly Clan. But, the girl realized as she took the tiny bug gently into her open palm, it was hope.
Beverly Clan