Bee Swarm -

The swarm first settled on a low-hanging branch of a peach tree, knitting themselves together into a massive, pulsing beard of bees. At the center, protected by a living wall of workers, sat the Queen. Outside, the world was a dangerous place. A sudden rain could chill the cluster; a predator could tear through their ranks.

In the heart of the ancient hive, the air had grown too thick with the scent of pheromones and the heat of fifty thousand vibrating bodies. The Mother Queen, her golden abdomen heavy with the legacy of a thousand summers, knew the season of the Great Divide had arrived. Guided by an instinct older than the forest itself, she took flight, and in an instant, half the city followed. Bee Swarm

Suddenly, a high-pitched "piping" sound vibrated through the cluster—the signal to prepare. The bees began to warm their flight muscles, their collective temperature rising until the air around the branch shimmered. The swarm first settled on a low-hanging branch