The Bear and the Bee

There was once a Bear, who stomped around her territory with arrogant paws. Within her forest of redwood trees, no creature dared challenge her directly. They all understood a simple truth, their survival depended on her satisfaction.

One day, the Bear prowled across the forest floor, nose searching for a meal, when she caught the sweetest scent upon the air; nectar, sticky sunshine, and golden fruits - a glorious smell.

With fervour, the Bear began to follow the scent, honing in on the precious trail. Branches cracked under her claws, and hot breath huffed from her chest.

The trail led to a clearing full of flowers. The sun shone through the gap in the trees down to a jagged wall of stone, illuminating a golden jewel set within the rocks.

The jewel vibrated with the gorgeous scent, wafting through the clearing. It mixed with hot pollen - clouds of gold.

'Is this what heaven smells like?' The Bear wondered, her lips wet with thick saliva. She took a step towards the clearing.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," a small voice buzzed from a nearby orchid.

The Bear peered down, to see the source of the voice as a Bee, fat with pollen.

"I must taste that sweetness..." the Bear replied, single-minded.

"If you try to knock our hive down, we will have to sting you," the Bee warned - not unkindly.

The Bear scowled down at the tiny threat, her large orange eyes boring into the bronze-striped bug. She could not help a laugh from escaping her throat.

"I am sure that I could take a sting from a few of you..." the Bear leaned down, flashing her teeth, "...insect."

The Bee fluffed their hairs in response, flying up to land on the Bear's nose. The Bear could see the Bee's fractured, granular, grey eyes.

"A few, yes," the Bee spoke, "thousands? Perhaps not."

"There are thousands of you? Up in that golden jewel?" the Bear asked in wonder.

"In our hive, yes, there are thousands of my brothers ready to defend our Queen with the stings she blessed us with."

At the mention of thousands of stings, the Bear's blood cooled, but the temptation of the sweetness held fast. The Bee looked at the Bear with pity.

"How about this, I will take some honeycomb from the hive tonight, not anything they would miss, and I'll leave it for you, right here, tomorrow morning?"

"Really?" The Bear was stunned by the Bee's kindness.

"Of course! We don't want to fight and we have plenty to spare! Just give me until morning to chew through the wax!" The Bee replied with friendliness.

"Then," the Bear said darkly, "I will see you tomorrow."

Shaken, the Bee flew back to the hive with frightened determination.

As promised, the Bear returned to the clearing the following morning, eager to taste 'honeycomb' as a gift, or painfully won reward.

Upon seeing no honey at the base of the wall of rock, she decided to lay in the trees surrounding the clearing and watch the Bee and their brothers work.

From a distance, the hive looked like a busy, mindless hub of chaos. Bees flitted away to flowers to drink nectar hastily, only to return in a stumbling stupor. The bees that greeted them shoved them back into the depths of the comb hurriedly. In the confusion, the other bees ran back and forth frantically, buzzing nonsense at one another.

However, as the Bear watched for longer, she began to see some patterns within the madness. When those pollen-laden bees returned from their missions, they were directed to specific locations within the hive. Some more reluctant gatherers were forced from the hive by their brothers. Each of their legs was plucked from the comb roughly and they were left to fall or fly.

It appeared that certain bees had more power than the rest. They seemed bigger and bossier than most. The Bear briefly thought that perhaps her Bee had been subjected to their malice.

The thought quickly left her head, however, when she saw the subject of her musings. Dutifully, the Bee had chewed through a hanging chunk of honeycomb, leaving its sizable weight hanging down by a small thread of wax. The bear watched, her amber eyes fixated on thick globs of honey dripping down the wall of rocks. The golden ambrosia glooped downwards, toward the clearing.

She licked her lips in anticipation - her prize was closer than ever.

The chunk of honeycomb fell from the beehive with a wet slap. The Bear leapt up and ran towards it eagerly. She sniffed the lump deeply, the sickly sweet scent that had led her to the hive closer than ever.

'Like liquid gold,' the Bear thought as she watched the pockets of liquid ooze onto the mud below.

She heard a single buzz above her head and the Bee landed on her nose once again.

"Thank you, kind B..."

"Now!" the Bee shouted.

Suddenly, a swarm of bees descended on the Bear from the hive, buzzing, shouting and stinging her. The bear gasped at the betrayal, turning to run.

She ran as fast as her heavy body allowed her, all the while feeling stings across her back. She crushed several bees under her paws, causing her toes to throb with every step.

Deeper within the forest, the Bear saw her den and drove into it, sliding to a halt in the safety of her cave. She took a deep breath and held it. Slowly, the buzzing passed her by; she had lost the horde.

Collapsed, the Bear felt a light weight land on her nose. It was the Bee.

"Why?" She croaked out, her body beginning to swell alarmingly.

"For the Queen," the Bee roared in devotion, plunging his stinger into the Bear's nose. She winced defeatedly and watched in resignation as the Bee died on her snout.

The Bear cried, smelling nothing but sweet honey.

Moral: Hive minds can be singular.

A/N: The Bear lives!! I swear - I just couldn't write it in! I hope you enjoyed this fable! Can you find the reference to my favourite fable/film of all time - Fantastic Mr Fox?

-TWW