A Meeting of Ideals and Bees

The skies were beautiful, this early spring day. Finally the clouds that had lingered for so long, sending cold rain and freezing winds, had cleared. The sky was a lovely shade of view, and the air currents under Bassoon’s wings were just right. Letting out a please chirp the Tapejara let himself dive, rapidly dipping in altitude as he barreled towards the ground.

Hearing a laugh beside him, Bassoon turned to see his mate Oboe at his side. Her orange eyes were alight with glee and mischief, and it wasn't long before he realized her plan. With a shriek of joy Oboe tackled him mid air, wrapping her talons around his as they spiraled around in the air. Together they spread their wings at the last moment, catching themselves in time for a bumpy but soft landing in the fresh spring grass. 

Bassoon let out a grunt as he pulled himself up- the landing was a little rough, but not painful. Oboe was there to land a wing, helping to nudge Bassoon up onto his feet before pointing at the valley before them. “Look, Bassoon!” Oboe breathed, eyes wide with wonder. “Look at all the flowers!”

And Bassoon could easily appreciate it. The ground was as beautiful as the sky. The grassy green of the meadow was dotted with the various colors of multiple types of flowers. Purple, yellow, blue, red, all shades of colors. And the air was full of insects buzzing around, pittering from flower to flower and spreading pollen. “There’s gonna be a good honey haul later this season!” Bassoon nodded at a bee that flew past, letting it flutter ever so slightly in front of his head before it moved on to another flower. 

Oboe moved forward, gently nosing her beak into the ground and coming up with something small and red in her beak. “Here!” She passed it to Bassoon, allowing him to crunch down on the small berry. It was bitter, but had a bit of sweetness to it. “Wild strawberries.” Oboe chriped. “And so early, too!”

Any response that Bassoon could have uttered was stopped as something hot dropped between them. Bewildered, the two tapejaras looked down and yelped, leaping back as a flaming branch dropped between them right into a patch of grass. Bassoon moved before he even realized he was in motion, frantically flapping his wings against the twig repeatedly. It wasnt until the fire was out that he stopped, panting, as he became aware of the stinging pain on his wings. Oboe quickly moved in to examine them. They were slightly burnt, but his feathers had taken most of the beating- he would be fine, probably wouldnt even suffer many flying problems.

An angry shriek caused the two tapejara to look up as a third flyer landed in front of them, pitch black feathers puffed out in a display of rage. “Why would you do that?” The other shrieked. Bassoon and Oboe backed up, bewildered. The stranger was another one of their kind, black feathers and red lava-like markings across his body giving him the appearance of living fire. Ash covered his body like a coat, bits of it drifting off and hitting the ground. “I brought that all the way over here!” While smaller than them, the intimidating and frankly manic energy  the stranger brought was enough to make both of the larger flyers recoil.

“You… you brought it here?” Oboe was the first to realize just what the other had said, squinting at them in confusion. “Why would you do that? It would start a huge fire!”

“Exactly!” The molten tapejara spread his wings in a boastful manner, clacking his beak. “I am Ignis! I bring fire, and I burn the land. You are winged, you should be helping me. Why do you deny me this?” Ignis stepped forward, rage burning in his eyes. “What has this land done for you, but be full of larger creatures who hunt and hurt you? Why do you care for the plants, these useless flowers, when we have no need for them?”

Bassoon snapped back, beak angrily clacking together. “Because all life comes from the land, not the sky. This is where we find most of our food, and we couldn't survive without it. What have these flowers ever done to you? Got allergies?”

Ignis hissed back, lashing out with his wing and batting a random flower- only to yelp in pain as a bee plunged its stinger into his wingarm. “Cursed flowers!” He howled angrily. “Cursed bugs! Cursed land! One day you’ll see- it will all be gone! One day, you’ll be thanking me!” With one last fiery glare the tapejara threw himself into the air, stumbling a bit as he flew. His wing was far too sore to bring more fire over, so the land was safe… for now.

Bassoon and Oboe stared in confusion and unease as the other flew away. What he had said was true- not in the way he realized, but one day this valley would be gone- the flowers, the bees, they would all wither away as the winter came. Best to enjoy it while they could- before frost of fire blazed it all away.