the queen of the hive

the queen of the hive

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  • Queen of the hive.
  • Life is tough being the queen of a hornet hive. Other animals think it's fun. I mean who wouldn't want to  be in charge. I can answer that question for you: Me. As soon as I was out of my egg other hornets (such as workers.) I lay eggs after every winter. It gets quite boring in the hive, and one day, I did something about it.
  • My feet clacked on the ground as I clambered up off it. Admiring my pale black and yellow back, I lunged up off the ground. I sighed with relief as the sight of the real world met me. There was more than just work to the world after all! Worker hornets were everywhere clouding around the hive. No one would notice I was gone. Swinging my stinger in satisfaction, I sped off. 
  • As I ambled along the river path, a beautiful dirt path humans had gracefully made for some reason, I met a small salmon. I watched enviously as  it dipped and dive in the waves. Oh how I wish to have  gills like those of a salmon. I though blissfully. To me near delite A pair of gills opened up on my back. I swam with the salmon for the rest of the day. 
  • Now, my outings were becoming more frequent. Each time going along the river and wishing for the gills. For the rest of the day I would swim. But winter was coming. Jealously and sadness overcame me as snow hares hopped along the river path oblivious of the snow. I wish so, so, so, so, so much to have the  fur of a hare.
  • Wishing quickly (Which required little thought now.) I turned to a arctic hare. Smiling, I sped off through the snow.
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