M E L I T A
His frown didn’t deter her; very rarely did anything stop her actions from proceeding, a tenacious, obstinate sort of little demon. She tilted her head and nodded at his inquiry, jumbling Fangorn around in her arms at her forceful action. “I can!” Then she opted to copy their humming components, attempting to match pitch for pitch, tone for tone; eyes flicking back and forth over the movement and motion of the bees. It was familiar and distinct, and though there was likely some variant in species, she was accustomed enough to bee particulars, customs, traditions, and patterns to see the trial and tribulation was probably minimal. “I know some,” she hollered back to the stranger; not wishing to give herself a braggart’s reputation and then be incapable of following up on the proffered assistance. But she had spent a majority of her childhood following them around, billowing beside them and pretending to be amidst their colonies (buzz buzz she’d shout at Clementine, rolling back and laughing in the sun-sweet meadow, wild and free, fervent and ardent and bewitched by the beauty of the world around her).
“That’s understandable,” - bees, despite Melita's love and adoration for them, carried a long list of qualms and fear, those who didn't want to slip into their wrath and be mauled in a series of suicidal volleys. Some simply didn't understand how vital the animals were: because it was more than just honey, but pollinating, ensuring the rest of the realm's food could grow, could nurture, could thrive. She grew a little closer, studying them from below. “You don’t have a nest though. This is a swarm. They’re gathering around their queen to protect her.” And she was everything to them, the life-giver, the power, the future, the renewal, the resurgence. The rest of them clustered together as shields, as defense, as mercenaries, willing to give their lives for her; it was sorrowing and uplifting all at the same time. “We’ll just have to figure out how to tempt them to leave.” Would they follow another humming voice? Or did they have to convince the queen, and all her waiting ladies, that this wasn’t the right surface to occupy?
