Bumblebee [Open]

[Bre]

The birds and the bees are flying in the trees . . .

Emillabbea stared across the canyon bed. Geese milled about her feet, pecking at the ground. She carried a long switch in one hand, the implement and the animals signs of her job as a herder. She could see portents in the eyrie, portents in the air. Memories floated through her mind. She could remember so much.

"Emi, my bee;" her mother whispered, trying to sooth her. She was crouched in the dark of their house, huddled close to her mother, just a handful of years old at that time. "What's a bee?" She sounded scared, even as she asked the innocent question. She had every reason to be scared. They were hiding. There were koxi on the road above the village. They had to hide. Her mother looked down at her, blinking slowly at her inquiry. A small look of sadness crossed the aging woman's face as she looked at her daughter, sadness for the few things that the little girl had never known. "They're a creature that makes things sweet, just like you, my sweet little bumblebee;" Emi's mother whispered. She smiled widely at those words. Being a child made it easy for her to forget danger. She snuggled closer to her mom and they waited. She was a little bumblebee, safe and sound and just plain sweet.

The memory faded from Emi's thoughts. It was time to go. She checked the progression of the sun above the canyon's high walls. Then, clucking, she swung her switch around the edge of the milling herd of birds at her feet. Squawking, they hurriedly clustered together and shuffled off. Jok, the one goose who actually belonged personally to her, turned his head to give her a huffy, indignant look with his beady eyes. She ignored him and whistled low, urging the flock onward. They began to pick their way across the canyon bed, weaving amongst the animal pens and pecking as they went. Emi easily kept them in an orderly group.

Sometimes the memories hurt. Sometimes they didn't. Emi's mother was gone, lost to sickness, but she had already mourned that loss. She moved forward with her life, her new life in the eyrie as a goose herder. A lazy bug, some Pohonian insect, buzzed by her face. She flicked her switch at it, ignoring Jok when he looked at her oddly for it, and smiled as the bug buzzed hurriedly off. It was a sunny day, no day to be weighed down with worries. Squaring her shoulders, Emi urged the geese to move a little faster, guiding them down one of the paths that led towards the pond. A swim and some pond scum would do them all good.

. . . the sun is in the sky just for you and I.

[jaker]

Kito strolled along the pens whistling, a chicken with a crazed stare was perched on his shoulder. "Aye Hipatchi, another lazy day and in the place of chores too!" he laughed, pulling off a wild smile to the fowl. He scooped up some seeds from a tattered bad and began to nible on them, he didn't forget his companion though, he held his other hand up for the chicken to peck away at the seeds. "Candidate life is an easy one... if ya know what you're doing me dear Patch," he exclaimed before slumping down at a pond. He sighed in the tranquil silence for a moment, only for it to be startled by geese honking as they came up to the pond. "Erm uhuh," he muttered raising and eyebrow, "oh it's those geese run things, see there's the herder," he said quietly to his friend.

[Bre]

The sky is perfect blue . . .

There was a boy with a chicken on his shoulder down by the pond. That was the first thing that Emi noticed. She was a herder. She had to be observant like that. Staring at the boy and his chicken, she giggled. It was an utterly ridiculous sight! No one ever saw her with geese on her shoulders. Occasionally flinging them about, yes, when she got a hold of one that was in the way, but never with one on her shoulder. Stifling her amusement, she flicked her switch, sending the geese and a loudly honking Jok up towards the shore of the eyrie's wide pond. While a few of the fowl flopped down into the water, most didn't bother. They weren't overly inclined to try and swim away, being content to peck away at the ground, stealing seeds that had gone astray from the flower beds.

The boy seemed to be muttering to himself. That was the second thing that Emi noticed. Smiling brightly towards him, she raised her hand and waved. "Hello;" she called. Her flock was tended for the time being, so she settled down on a rock, curling her knees up underneath herself. "How are you?" Polite and joyful, she just had to ask. It didn't matter that they didn't know each other. Greeting strangers was the easiest way to make friends.

. . . no cloud would spoil the view.

[jaker]

Kito grinned wildly, "aye missy, I'm fine," he tipped his cap in respect, "how are you ?" he placed his chicken the on the ground and stuck his hand out to her, "name's Kito, for now anyway, what's yours?" he exclaimed in a humble yet bright way. Kito may seemed insane or crazy, sometimes 'that stupid boy broke my stock again,' but when it came to friendlyness and being kind, he was usually spot on. His chicken, Hipatchi, nuzzled at the girls leg as in a dopey way to inspect her. "Hipatchi..." Kito hissed, picking up his prized posession.

The chicken costed every last penny he had, it was worth it though: well that's what he thought. It was fine with everyone on him having a chicken, but when the medical man of clean freakyness moved into his room, that when it suddenly became an apparent problen. Kito shook his head, 'that chicken is filthy and unsanitar!" "get that chicken off my face" "why was your chicken in our drinking water!" Ripley was a very prissy man in Kito's opinion.

[Bre]

Oh, the birds and the bees . . .

"I'm good;" Emi said brightly, smiling at the boy. She accepted his proffered hand and gave it a firm, wild shake, more than happy to meet him. He was years older than her, but she was used to meeting people of all ages. It came with her line of work, because, even at the age of eleven, she was a working girl, more than competent at herding her flock where they needed to be. She didn't even much look eleven, more like twelve, big smile, grubby face, and all. "I'm Emillabbea, but everyone just calls me Emi. Nice to meet you, Kito;" she told him, utterly genuine. She giggled when Hipatchi came pecking around her ankles, chuckling as Kito picked him up. It was nice to see somehow being so nice to their chicken. They were terribly stupid creatures, but she liked birds of all sorts, geese and ducks just being her absolute favorites.

"I need to move the geese along soon;" Emi told him, frank when it came to business. It was rude to cut their talk short, but she had to do her job. "You can come if you like, but it's a ways and we have to keep moving;" she told him, trying to be polite as she could. However, she was already clucking to her flock as she spoke, flicking her switch. Their stop at the pond hadn't been long, enough to give the geese some time to feed and get a drink before the moved towards better pickings. Jok was unperturbed by the current move, darting underneath her switch, apparently eager to get to the food he knew they'd be traveling towards. Offering Kito a smile, Emi swung her switch, gathering up the stray members of her feathered pack. She tipped her head to him in an open ended farewell, mimicking the respectful greeting that he had given her.

. . . the bees and the birds.

[jaker]

Kito nodded politely to Emillabbea, "well it was nice to meet ya Emi', have a good day," he said brightly as she lead the geese onward. He placed his hand on the floor to let his companion trundle up his arm and back onto his shoulder. He took one look at the girl and began walking in the opposite direction. "Soon Hipatchi, I will be a rider and then I don't have to share my room with mister clinical," he laughed as they began to head off back to the barracks for more chilling out. He smiled a little and petted the animals in the pens, so many of them were here, in this hole of haven. He yawned for a moment and scratched the back of his head, "everywhere I go on this world is a farm," he muttered, finding the prospect monotonous and un-appealing to his wild nature.