There isn’t much to do in a hive. Besides eating and sleeping, most of my day is spent outside the hive. Maybe I would spend more time in the hive if I could communicate with the workers, even the queen. But with no way for me to accomplish that, all I can do is go out exploring.

First I explored the area around the hive. There wasn’t much to see, just trees, flowers, birds, insects, vines, and dirt. Probably about half a mile west there is a small, stagnant pond. I avoided getting too close to it as I’m sure there’s plenty of things willing to snack on me there.

It wasn’t until I flew above the canopy did I get a good view of what’s around the hive. North, the direction the hive is facing, in a couple of miles starts turning mountainous with tree covered hills and mountains reaching towards the clouds. Strangely despite all indications that it’s spring, I spot multiple trees that don’t have green leaves.

They increase in concentration the higher up you look on the mountain, giving it a beautiful appearance as large trees of reds, greens, blues, yellows, and some whites and blacks color its landscape.

Despite the lack of oddly colored trees near the hive, I can’t help but worry if their strange color will be a potential problem. Of course, that’s neither here nor there.

Slightly west of the mountains are the beginnings of a river that curves further west and then straightens out as it starts flowing mostly south. East of the hive, the forest continues seemingly endlessly. There are odd colored trees further east but not anywhere near the concentration seen on the hills and mountains towards the north.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

South of the hive is where the treeline starts thinning out. Eventually it turns into grassland with plenty of wild flowers growing. The lack of trees in that direction allows me to see even further with more clarity compared to the other directions.

However, unlike the other directions that don’t have even the slightest sign of human activity, there’s only what I can describe as a vague silhouette of an old timey wagon caravan heading northeast along the river.

Shocked by my finding, I can’t help but fly in circles out of excitement. I’ll finally have some human contact, I might even be able to talk to them and see if they can solve my whole being a bee problem.

My excitement quickly dies as I realize that I’m still a bee. I can’t even communicate with the other bees in my hive, despite the queen naturally being able to do so, let alone communicate with someone multiple times my size. They might even just stomp on me out of annoyance.

Filled with indecision, I decide to simply check the people out and see what I can glean from them. It’d be especially useful if they speak English, but judging by how they’re using covered wagons, I might be in some remote part of the world.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained as they say. Besides I don’t want to assume the worst, you know what they say about assuming after all. Maybe they’re just the type of people who like to relive the old days and those weird trees are painted.

Flying south, out of the forest, after about half an hour to an hour of flight I reach the point where they’re setting up camp by the river. With the setting sun it’s difficult to make out their image clearly. I’m going to need to get a closer look to see better and hopefully hear what they’re talking about.

Coming closer to the wagon encirclement I soon cross paths with an absolutely massive man with a sword almost as wide as he is with biceps bigger than an average man’s thighs. It’s clear he doesn’t skip the gym.

What caused me to be gobsmacked though, was not his muscular appearance but his dark green skin!