"Where is that thing?!"

An old man didn't want to engage in another useless conversation. But he lived with his wife for almost forty years and knew that she wouldn't let it go easily. She probably just lost her glasses once again. Continuing to read the newspaper full of catchy headlines, he asked, "Thing?"

"Bug. Calling her a human being would be an exaggeration!"

So, it wasn't glasses, but that annoying girl. The old man sighed. He would have thrown her mother out if he knew it would cause so much trouble. Back then, he at least had the strength to do so. Now, even the hits of his cane feel weak and wobbly.

"I'm telling you, something is wrong. The other day, pigs acted restlessly around her, as if a badger had sneaked into the pen. And I can swear, she hasn't slept in the barn in a few days. What if she's sleeping around like her mother?"

The old man finally looked up from the paper at his wife. The constant nagging annoyed him, so he suggested the only thing that occurred to him, "Why don't you lock her up in the barn if you are so worried?"

After finishing her dinner, vegetable stew and seasoned with cumin flatbread, Bug quietly approached the barn's door. The routine of the day was suddenly disrupted by an obstacle - the door was locked. A strong iron smell could not hide the old woman's whiff. She had never locked the barn before, even though Bug sometimes wished she would. Why had she changed the habit now? Did this mean that the elderly couple suspected her?

It would be wise to stay low and just go to sleep to quell these worrying doubts. But instead of fear and anxiety, Bug was filled with anger. She worked diligently, yet instead of even a single word of gratitude, they locked her up like a slave. Maybe before, she would have swallowed her resentment, but now she knew there was another way of life. It didn't take long for her to change. Life in a friendly environment that appreciated and valued her efforts made her feel like she was a worthy person. Ironically, those who showed her human treatment were not human at all.

They relied on her. So, sitting helplessly in a barn was not an option. The sun had almost set, and the small window under the ceiling had turned from pink to a greyish darkness. It was time for her to change form. Bug usually snuck out of the village to do so, but now she did it inside the barn. Even after two months, the girl was still unsure how the magic worked. She was not born with it, and no one had taught her. However, observing the magic used by animals and plants, she came to the conclusion that it was not a skill learned, but rather an ability that came naturally, like breathing or blinking. There seemed to be two conditions for Bug's transformation into a wolf ant: it had to be nighttime, and she had to think about a swarm. And even with the fulfillment of these conditions, it sometimes took Bug longer to change. When magic worked, it happened in the blink of an eye, so it was difficult to tell exactly when she changed form. Today, it was almost instantaneous, perhaps due to strong emotions boiling inside her. The earth floor wasn't much of an obstacle for the wolf ant's strong paws. Bug found the perfect place in the furthest corner and dug her way out. As soon as she was outside, she rushed into the forest.

She reached the familiar hill earlier than usual. The stork hopper near the creek became accustomed to her silly jokes – the leaps it took to avoid her became shorter, and instead of flapping tiny wings it grumbled annoyed by familiar treatment. Partly because it became less enjoyable teasing him, partly because Bug looked forward to reuniting with the swarm, she headed straight to the nest. One of the workers, a female carrying a horsepillar's leg, greeted approaching Bug. She returned her greeting, wondering if help was needed. It turned out that they had almost finished storing food from this prey, so Bug did not want to interrupt their work with questions and let the worker continue. This was one of the wolves that she had previously hunted with. Bug liked its bright and always confident gaze, so she named this she-wolf Clear-eyed.

Wolf ants identified each other by unique smells, and could use pheromones to call out to each other, but they did not have names like humans. At first, this did not concern Bug. It was comfortable that way. But as she grew closer to some members of the nest, it wasn't enough. She wanted to give names to her friends, such as the soldier wolf who saved her life. However, almost all the names she knew were associated with unpleasant memories and villagers. Therefore, in the end, she decided not to use human names.

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The soldier on guard duty observed her interaction with Clear-eyed without disturbing the two. He only approached Bug to greet her when the she-wolf worker dove into the den. She recognized him instantly and returned his greeting. While she was struggling with names for some members of the swarm, it wasn't the case this time. One glance at her savior was all it took for Bug to come up with a name. She will call him Kindhearted. He wasn't the largest soldier, but he was strong enough to help workers with big-size prey or deal with danger, like hunters. His helpful nature, however, was only one of the reasons for his name. Among soldiers Kindhearted was the most common one to attend "kindergarten" and look after cubs.

He was glad to see her, and even though the wolf ants didn't have tails to wag, she could easily imagine how wildly Kindhearted would wag his. This thought made her laugh. He laughed back with the same panting that Bug already got used to. For a while they exchanged news about the nest and the forest. The cub they saved from the hunter two weeks ago was more careful now and didn't wander alone. One of the workers had fought with a badger and gotten his throat injured. These sorts of events were like little stones thrown into the pond, creating ripples in the usually calm life of the swarm. With time, worries about these incidents calmed down, just like circles on water eventually fading away.

When the soldier returned to patrolling the area near the nest, Bug followed the usual routine and headed to the queen's room to request a task. This was the quickest method to obtain a task and comply with the hierarchy at the same time. The she-wolf, whom Bug simply called Pushing Queen, was resting and skipped her pushing habit this time. While workers helped each other and picked up unfinished tasks, Pushing Queen oversaw the swarm's work and corrected it at any time. Like other members of the swarm, she did not exclude her new subject from the rest, either in terms of types of assigned work or in showing appreciation or demonstrating authority. This time Bug was sent to assist shepherds.

She had already helped shepherds before. Looking after animals was a peaceful and pleasant task, even in her human form. So, she was curious about how wolf ants carried out this task. Bug had heard that some swarms used small herbivorous animals named aphis cows as cattle, but she never saw one during her human life. Only after turning into a wolf, did she witness it firsthand. The first time Bug ran into a worker carrying a small, bristly spotted creature, she thought it was another prey from the hunt. But when another worker passed by with the same load, she became curious and followed them. Turns out, the workers were bringing their cattle back to the herd room.

The shepherds usually began their work by checking the well-being of the herd. Sick animals were separated to prevent the spread of disease. After everyone had been checked and found to be in good health, workers carried the aphis cows, one by one, to the "pastures", placing each under a rocky tree. There, the cows used their strong proboscises and magic abilities to get through the bark of the tree. The tree's juice was digested, and the surplus was distilled and stored under the hard bug-like wings of the cows. Every member of the swarm could feast on this nectar at any time. All the wolf needed to do was just poke the aphis cow on the side, and it raised its wings. The swarm gained a source of food, and in return, cows received protection from predators and illness, care for their eggs and young, and even transportation. Being tended by their hosts for many generations, these symbiotic creatures' legs became thin and weak, and they could hardly move themselves.

When Bug joined the shepherds, they were already moving the cows to the pasture. Workers towered above the herd, while small creatures that barely reached the knee of an adult human patiently waited for their turn to be picked up. She was about to take one when she noticed a strange cow among the herd. At first, Bug decided that it was sick, but after observing its behavior, it struck her that the "cow" wasn't a cow at all. It looked like one, and had a similar smell, but its proboscis was too short and weak to break the bark of a rocky tree, and it didn't produce any nectar.

Bug took the defective cow out of the nest and left it near the hazel thicket serving as a dump. But only to find it back in the pasture, returned by another shepherd. Perplexed by the lack of reaction from the other workers, the girl began to observe a fake cow. She immediately found two more fake ones among the herd. They all ate the supplies, enjoyed the security of the nest and the care of the workers, without any assistance with the harvest. Maybe they weren't useless to the swarm after all? Maybe her judgment was simply wrong and clouded by a human point of view? Bug decided to take her time. It was better not to make any rash decisions that could potentially harm the swarm.