#hornetinteracts

It’s been a bit…quiet in the nest recently, there hasn’t been any noticeable sounds in it for the past couple of hours. And it doesn’t seem like the body of its makers is here, only the slight coolness of the silk-laden tunnels has been present in its absence.

Well, that was the case until the familiar smell of fresh meat and blood came from further down the tunnels along with something…pungent and acidic. The sound of a familiar voice grunting is also noticeable, with it being followed by something being dragged. One could guess a successful hunt must’ve occurred, though one longer than usual…it’s strange, especially since they weren’t exactly known to bring their kills back to the nest…

Following it down reveals a bit more of the nest, particularly the room Pallas was found in, which stood in contrast to the rest of the nest with the room being more composed of bamboo rather than silk, but of course silk still lines the walls, ever protecting the room from collapse. There were also a lot of shelves and metal hooks present, presumably used to store leftover meat. For Pallas himself was cutting up the tender flesh of a Hardbone Elder with his sharpened claws over some leaves; its plates and neck looked…burnt, not by fire, lava, or something of the like, rather a chemical burn. Perhaps whatever the pungent, water-looking liquid present in the bucket next to him was to blame.

Pallas himself seemed a bit absorbed in his work, not noticing Beast at all. Rather, he seems to be measuring out his cuts with his own antennae and carefully removing the plates that once protected his prey with a surprising amount of precision. Not paying much attention to the other bodies that lay next to him, two were chemically burned hardbone hoppers, presumably the ones the now-dead elder had tried to protect. There were also about three Vicious Caranids in a pile as well, spared from whatever substance killed the Hardbones. And from the way the larger ant was covered in hemolymph, it could be inferred that there was a whole lot more prey caught that he chose to consume instead.

More concerningly though was the various cuts he himself had obtained from his long hunt, of which he was also ignoring. Some had received attention with them being stitched up by silk, but the rest received none of that same attention. Rather being left to bleed for however long it takes them to scar over…he didn’t seem to be in pain at least…still, something should probably be done about them and it’s clear he wasn’t going to be the one doing it…

The Beast's sense of smell obviously prompted her to follow, especially since she had missed her mate(s?). At least, to an extent.

Queen found a pile of glass jars where there once was a locked wooden door, some with drifts of ash or dried paint in them. Pacing footsteps could be heard behind the pile.

@wandererlyra

“Queen? I have heard it is Pride month… should we do something to celebrate?”

@wandererlyra

As Beast hunts, a strange, scarred ant with a muckroach around its shoulders appears quite a ways behind her in the grass. The ant is tall, intimidating, and strangely has a pair of extra arms and antennae similar to Karmalita’s, it resembles a Mottled Skarr, if it had a mask covering its face and had more green-ish markings. The cloak it wears is a green-ish grey, with two masks and craw beaks on each side of it, the mask the ant wears is strangely familiar as well, just with a streak of red across it.

It keeps its distance for bit, just observing her for a while before finally walking up to her and crossing his arms across his chest in a bow. A deep, gruff voice rings out from him as he greets her.

“Grkk…Greetings Beastial Mistress…I am…Pallas…One to fear…wanted to…hunt with you…took convincing…Styx…to borrow body…and stones…for this…but I am here…now.”

Seeing him up close, it’s clearer to see just how big he is, he’s only just a bit shorter than Styx, but that really didn’t matter much. The muckroach, Stones jumped down and barked excitedly as it ran around in circles before calming down and sitting next to Pallas.

The Beast was... very confused.

She hadn't expected putting on the mask to alter Styx's whole body shape, but... Yeah, you know, that wasn't super far outside the realm of what masks can do. She knew they could change a bug's body, just... not nearly this dramatically.

She allowed herself a few moments to rest before climbing up to the next ledge. And finally making it to memorium.

She loved the scent of moss and living things that wouldn’t immediately throw sharp things at them.

She sat on a patch of green taking a closer look at the stitches.

None had frayed yet, and hopefully never would because they’d be incredibly painful to replace

Lyra sighed, fiddling with a nearby stick, peeling off all the bark and using one small claw to carve some squiggly lines into it

@wandererlyra

The Queen had noticed Lyra wandering away from Songclave, and had made moves to follow behind carefully. She didn't think Lyra would be especially capable of defending herself, and she would rather her one supporter not get herself killed.

Her plan to follow Lyra quickly got foiled, however, when she discovered that there... wasn't a staircase, or an elevator, or anything of the sort, leading up to wherever Lyra had gone.

The Queen was about to spend an hour making some sort of contraption using her Silk, or perhaps just making a rope to climb, when she remembered she had wings.

It still took her far too long to find her way up, since she had to basically teach herself how to fly. It was more intuitive than she thought it would be, but not as intuitive as she had hoped it would be. Whatever; she'd learn.

After she made her way up, it did not take her long to find Lyra. She wasn't as good a tracker as the Hunter, but she could manage. And she silently approached the moth, before sitting beside her.

"This is a peculiar place," The Queen stated. "An attempt to put life inside a cage. Unfortunately, it was almost doomed to fail; life was never meant to be contained."

Styx was going about his usual business of gathering supplies for his nest, particularly silk, with which he needed a near-constant supply of for cultivating precious silkeaters for his dear mistress!

Speaking of his mistress, while he was stealing carrying the two spools of silk he’d gotten from Greymore. He noticed her figure in the distance, but something was different about her

She was more… beastial to say the least, which was certainly an interesting development. After a bit of consideration, he began to walk closer towards her before beginning to speak with a short bow of his head

“Sss… greetings-sss mis-stress. I couldn’t help but notice sss-something seemsss…. Different about you. If you would permit me to… might I as-ssk what has-sss happened”

Yes, yes, something was VERY different about Styx's mistress.

She was larger. More muscular, by far. Bulkier, and fluffier. With another set of arms. Also, she wasn't standing upright, not until Styx approached and she stood upright to be closer to his level, though she was still notably smaller than him.

"MRRRP!" Was her initial response, which was also very unlike her.

"PRRRRRRR! Was... Split... Prrrrrr, so good... see you PRRRRR!"

The Beast had to restrain herself from pouncing on Styx and nuzzling him and nipping him affectionately. But it was so, so hard to resist these impulses...

Dark. Almost labyrinth-like. Sharp. Dangerous. And yet, there is a kind of appeal to it anyways. Wrought of things they haven't seen anywhere else; the glowing fungi most easily coming to mind.

It is a place rarely visited by Holly themself.

Not for the danger had. But, for the lack of reason to be there at all.

But, now they do come. Now they do have a reason for being here, one that has been sitting at the back of their mind collecting dust, ever since news of their sister's involvement in that raid had come.

Little Weaver Sister.

Oh how... long it has been. Too long.

They wonder if the affection once held has faded with time and experience... --exposure to the cruelty of the infection and all that it took down with it. They consider how they are to be around her; no longer is she small, fragile, and naive child. An adult in her own right.

They try not to think about father. What he had become. And what was left in the aftermath; living yet, but in a precarious state still.

But even so, fleeting as the thoughts pressed aside are, they are what push Holly forward at last and have them approach their sister. Awkward as ever, uncertain on how to start, they merely stare her down for about a minute or so and mentally fumble with their words before (eventually) pressing something forward.]

/ Diminished… you have been.

By the likes of runic cages. Harsh. Severe.

And yet, enough strength remains. Much regained. Much overcome. Enough that to stand against you would be no easy task.

So tell me.

The ones that saw you imprisoned.

Did you… ah “beat the shit” out of them as more crude phrasing would go…? I would hope so. /

[...sadly, the best they could think of. Not a greeting. Not common small talk, but this. Awkwardness, they could not overcome.] @impure-vessel-official

The Hunter had sensed the approach. Of course she had. She knew this land like she knew her own body, and her senses were sharp and keen.

The Queen stared at the creature in her lap. It didn't appear to be a cat (though this thought made her wonder where the cat that Lyra had guilted her into letting them keep went), so the Queen was... somewhat accepting of the outcome of the cat being asleep on her lap.

"Lyra, dear, I'm afraid something unfortunate has happened that, for the time being, may keep me from participating in our work. As such, perhaps now would be the right time for the both of us to take a rest," The Queen told her lover.