A Bear, A Bee, and a Friendship

Once upon a time, there was a bear that walked her domain with haughty paws. Nothing in her redwood forest dared to confront her face-to-face. They were all aware of the obvious reality that their continued existence hinged on her approval.

The Bear once smelled the loveliest perfume in the air as she prowled over the forest floor, her nose hunting for food. It was a magnificent combination of honey, sticky sunlight, and golden fruits.

The Bear followed the smell with great zeal, focusing on the valuable track. Hot air puffed from her chest as branches splintered under her nails.

The path came to a flower-filled area. The golden pearl embedded in the rocks was illuminated by the light beaming through the opening in the trees and down to a rough stone wall.

The exquisite aroma drifted over the meadow, making the diamond tremble. It blended with warm pollen, creating golden clouds.

“Is this the scent of heaven?” With heavy saliva on her lips, the Bear pondered. She moved in the direction of the clearing.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t do that,” a little voice buzzed from one of the surrounding orchids.

The bear looked down and saw that the voice was coming from a big bee covered in pollen.

The Bear retorted, unwavering, “I must taste that sweetness…”

The Bee threatened, not menacingly, “We will have to sting you if you try to knock down our hive.”

With her wide orange eyes staring intently at the bronze-striped beetle, the Bear glared down at the little menace. She found herself laughing uncontrollably.

The Bear crouched down and bared her fangs, “I’m sure I could take a sting from a few of you, insect.”

In return, the Bee fluffed their hairs and soared to rest on the Bear’s snout. The Bee’s grainy, gray, shattered eyes were visible to the Bear.

“A few, maybe,” the Bee said, “but thousands? Maybe not.”

“You guys number in the thousands? Wondering “Up in that golden jewel?” the Bear enquired.

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

The Bear’s blood cooled at the idea of hundreds of stings, but the sweetness’s lure persisted. With sympathy, the Bee glanced at the Bear.

“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 Bee’s generosity astounded the Bear.

“Obviously! We have much to spare and don’t want to battle! Please let me gnaw through the wax till daybreak.” The Bee gave a kindly reply.

The Bear said, “Then, I will see you tomorrow.”

The Bee flew back to the hive, shaken, but determined not to let fear stop it.

The Bear made good on his word and came back to the clearing the next morning, ready to sample the “honeycomb,” which he had cruelly earned.

She chose to lie among the woods around the clearing and observe the Bee and their brethren at work after discovering that there was no honey at the foot of the rock wall.

The hive seemed to be a bustling, thoughtless center of turmoil from a distance. Bees darted off to flowers to quickly sip nectar, only to stumble back in confusion. The bees that met them quickly pushed them back into the comb’s depths. The other bees were buzzing madly at each other as they hurriedly rushed back and forth in the pandemonium.

But as the Bear kept watching, she started to see some patterns among the chaos. Upon their return from their missions, the pollen-laden bees were guided to certain areas inside the hive. Their brothers drove a few more hesitant gatherers out of the hive. Their legs were brutally removed from the comb, leaving them to either fall or soar.

Some bees seemed to be more powerful than the others. They seemed larger and more dominant than others. For a while, the Bear considered the possibility that her Bee had fallen victim to their ill will.

But as soon as she beheld the object of her thoughts, the idea swiftly departed her mind. The Bee had dutifully bitten through a dangling piece of honeycomb, such that a tiny wax thread held its substantial weight in place. The bear observed, her amber eyes fixed on thick honey globs trickling down the granite wall. The ambrosia in gold glooped down toward the clearing.

Her reward was closer than ever, so she licked her lips in excitement.

With a damp smack, the piece of honeycomb tumbled out of the beehive. The Bear sprung up and enthusiastically raced in its direction. She took a long sniff at the lump, drawn as ever closer to the hive by the horribly sweet smell.

As the Bear saw the pockets of liquid seeping into the dirt below, she thought to herself, “Like liquid gold.”

A single buzz above her head signaled her that the Bee had returned to rest on her nose.

“Thank you, kind B…”

“Now!” said the Bee.

Out of nowhere, a swarm of bees from the hive buzzed, screamed, and stung the bear. The treachery made the bear gasp and turn to flee.

She felt stinging all the way across her back as she sprinted as quickly as her heavy body would allow. Her toes throbbed with each step as she squashed many bees beneath her claws.

The Bear found her home farther into the jungle and drove into it, stopping as it did so to be secure within her cave. She inhaled deeply and held it. She lost the swarm as the humming gradually moved past her.

The Bear collapsed and felt something light touch her nose. The Bee was the culprit.

“Why?” She croaked out, her body swelled dangerously.

With a shout of devotion, “For the Queen,” the Bee sank his stinger into the Bear’s nostrils. With a frustrated grimace, she stared helplessly as the Bee perished on her nose.

With just the aroma of delicious honey, the bear sobbed.