Find Your Wings

Grasshopper Number One

Little did I regret that little interrogation, but I guess it was all just selfish intent. It was all more for me than for that widow, but I had a mind to make that hornet suffer the same way Flitter did. I didn't know why, but it felt so good. Perhaps I made it a little worse for that hornet, but there was something that I still couldn't understand. It wasn't just the fact that Flitter was one of the only maternal influence in two grasshopper's petty lives, but she was the only one who didn't judge us right off the bat. She didn't judge me... even when Emerald hated me all that time. She treated Molt like he hatched in her own nest. She was the first real friend I've ever had during my sad, little existence in this huge world. She was technically a mother to us (since we never really had one). We never got such support from anyone, who wasn't an insect. I hated to say this to myself but I too had lost something that morning ... that died with her. As if I wasn't enough of a poison for them to deal with.

In a way, I blamed myself for her death. I well could have protected her. They just came in so fast, everything just broke into a mess. If I didn't distract Blade... I don't even know. That was one thing I disagreed with Emerald on. I couldn't think about what could have happened. Emerald saying that I couldn't stop it from happening hurt more than I could ever know. By what that one hornet, who mentioned seeing Molt with her that morning when she died, there was a much larger scale other than random attacks on birds. No insect, in their right mind, would just swarm pollinators when they had their guard down. If this Queen that the hornet scout mentioned was planning these attacks only for new nest locations, than this meadow alone was screwed. That Blade was a captain of hers, by the obvious officers he had following him like idiotic flies to a turd. Nabbing one with a web was a far cry from what really had to be done. First thing was first. I had to find that island. That was going to be their next spot, for a raid, I was guessing. I had no other alternative but to trust what the widow said, and I hoped Molt was somewhere out here. If something happened to him also, that would add to my massive guilt trip.

I wanted what was best for my little brother. Which was why I gave him so much space before. He said that he didn't hate me, but he did. I knew he did. For good reason. I just tortured a hornet by tearing his wing off, so in my own way... I could be a monster if I so choose. I may have lacked in any poison or advantages, but I had wings, skill and precision. I didn't just act on instinct all the time unless someone was about to jump me. I was confident in myself. Much more than Molt was.

Just as I suspected, the farther I flew west, I began to see a tree in the horizon, accompanied by distant gold hillsides. Hindered by thirst and hunger, I had to catch a break. I could push myself to the limit but I had to save up my strength. I landed carefully, checking around for any bird nests... I couldn't fathom if Molt was even eaten by a bird. I couldn't let that anxiety get to me. At least not now. I had to make sure that I was well hidden against the golden brown dirt, so not to catch attention of any hungry bird or another one of those hornets. I was so close to being entirely hidden before there came a sharp sound of wings. An array of shadows blocked out the sharp sunlight. For the first time in almost three weeks into the summer season, I finally saw them in a swarm.

There were three, then six... then nine, all of which were going the same direction I intended to go. I couldn't let them see me.... They were obviously dead on set on another assault.

I slowly rose up along the closest dead leaf, confident in my own camouflage, as I watched them swarm farther. As soon as I could see the bloody red stingers in front of me, I started my wings.

Those bastards were fast, so I had to start tailing them while being a little creative at the same time. Grass was our best friend when it came to stalking. We didn't get the name for nothing. I kept them in my view until I found out there was another dry creak that stayed unseen for quite a while. What hit me first was the memory of the berry bush the flock stayed at the passed spring season, which was so jarring to me that I had to stop and think. The sun struck the dry bed so hard that I had to squint just so I could see better. Right there, at the heart of the bed, stood an island with the tree I've been told about sitting smack dab in the middle of it.