Zenith for Chrysariel

[p]I simply cannot [i]stand[/i] hot weather. It makes me so glad that our hive is well-placed near the gorgeous shore of Veta Lake. It is only at the heart of summer that we must fly out to seek nectar in very sticky heat, and then only during the Ruffie Days of summer.

[p]Today is more to my taste, a beautiful sunny day with a gentle breeze. My usual perch just above the hive is open as I emerge to take my station. The hairs every bumbus grows to capture nectar beads and read danger on the winds are lying flat, allowing me to relax into the shade and amuse myself by flicking beads of water for Tempesti to catch.

[p]When the hairs begin to tremble, my heart thumps wildly and I take wing. My storm detection system is almost perfect. Since I turned my natural magics to a study of the weather, only two members of the hive have been lost to natural disaster. Though the storm is half an hour away, we have workers in the field that will need nearly all of that time to make the flight home. I must get to the Queen, as quickly as my wings will allow. I leave Tempesti to hold my perch, though competition is unlikely with a storm moving in.

[p]An outsider might think that my zooming flight through the halls of the hive is fraught with peril, but in truth I am much too skilled a flier to ever crash. Other bumbi, honeycombs, and larvae nests are all a blur as I make for the central chamber. My many brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins all know not to get in my way.

[p]Queen Bumbara invites me into her presence with a gentle wave of her fingers. Rather than waste time with cumbersome words, I let my body dance do the talking. In seconds I have informed her of the severity of the storm moving in and its relative position to the hive. Her signal is a magical one that all the workers abroad will taste as a bitter tang. The Queen nods her permission for me to depart, her way of thanking and rewarding me.

[p]Half the workers are safely inside by the time I make it back to my perch and the other half are visible on the horizon. Nobody questions my desire to fly [i]toward[/i] the looming black clouds. A storm bumbus is no more afraid of lightning and raindrops than a reborn would be of a little fire.

[p]I delight in the raw power of the bolts and the booming answer of the thunder. Rain water is nearly as sweet as nectar and even the rising wind cannot force me to land. I am one little ball of energy amidst nature's most impressive show of power.

[p]I am the first to assess damage on the outer layers of the hive. There have been times when whole levels had to be rebuilt and workers were forced to share bunks for a few weeks due to tunnel collapses. Fortunately, this storm has produced no such drama. I give the builders warning of one weak spot where a falling branch shaved off a few layers. The workers are already emerging, prepared to return to their gathering. As another storm is unlikely, I am eager to join the search.

[p]I will perch on a Blue Giant Hyssop wherever I can find one, though members of the Aster family also produce a nectar that is divine to the taste buds. Some bumbi will take any flower for their perch. I'll land on your more common daisies or petunias if nothing better is present, but nothing on Subeta or Atebus will ever convince me to collect pollen from one of those awful marigolds! I shudder at the mere thought of their bitter taste.

[p]The day's nectar haul is well above average and we are all very content to settle into our nests int he sleeping chamber. I tuck myself beneath a leaf blanket as Tempesti settles into his corner, well content with the knowledge that I am integral to the survival of this thriving hive.

[p]Story by [user=Pureflower]