Buzz off

Primadonna was, for all purposes, not good at dealing with stress. The lanky, abnormally long cryo tended to feel like a crouching rabbit at all times, ready to burst off somewhere away from the drama. He had done so several times today the way the air smelt must have been attracting the crazies. It felt thicker then usual, and everything felt oddly quiet and still but he was not about to let that affect him, no. He had a goal in mind. He had been lounging for the last several hours on a nice, flattened rock. It was painted bright green by some strange creature long since passed and sometimes made a strange honk when he shifted on it wrong, but it absorbed heat like no other, allowing it to press through his thick plumage and into his muscles and bones. He stretched his long legs, toes and all, in each viable direction before rolling into a half laying, sitting position. It was quite loaf like, and he looked around, squinting under the scrutiny of the blazing sun as his brain buzzed as it tried to come back to life. He yawned and shook his head, flinging off flies and gnats that had collected on his face. How annoying.

The sky was a brilliant orangey yellow color. He tilted his head, as his internal clock told him it was still early in the day, but it did remind him of something. He tilted his head left, then right, then left again as his brain tried to make sense of what memory this was invoking until it clicked.

Honey.

Honey sounded great, but the process was dangerous. The amount of hives had been exploding recently and he had seen many braver, older dinosaurs knock down hives to get at the sweet delicious combs within and while he had attempted to rob some already knocked down and recieved threats for his attempts, he had failed to actually get some himself. Today, though, that would change. He was bravened by a recent successful hunt, a small doe that hadn't realized her herd had moved on as she chewed on clover, and being full gave him energy - and stupidity - more then usual. He rolled off of the metal rock before once more stretching - His arms, his neck, his legs, he even shook his whole body and thwapped his tail against the rock for good measure. He glanced once more at the strange, honey hued sky before moving towards the last hive he had seen.

It didn't take him long to pass out of the crumbling walls and rocks and to find the mass of towering trees, and not much longer then that to find his goal. A low hanging hive, large and heavy enough to cause the branch it was on to bow and groan when the wind blew it, causing honey to drop from the overfull combs and onto Primadonna's face. He shook his head, snorting and rubbing it against the bark as the sticky substance got over his crest and eyes. He pawed it out of his vision before glancing back up and noticing he had attracted an audience with his commotion. A horde of bees on their hive, fluttering their wings in warning at the intruder staring at their stupid, delicious home. He snorted, giving his head one more shake before doing the most logical move he could think of.

He began trying to climb the tree.

Despite being low hanging, the branch was still relatively high up, but the tree had thick and patchy bark that allowed his claws to dig in deep and give him a good grip. He had seen some of the strange flying ones do this, clinging to the trees as they ate or hunted. Surely it could not be that hard? The swarm of flickering yellow and black on the hive buzzed in a deafening cacophony above him, a loud and aggressive warning to the young and stupid cryo. Yet his naivety knows no bounds, and he persisted with his climbing. He was shaky, having not grown into his long and lanky limbs as he stumbled up the tree.

Primadonna shook his head his head as a bee landed on his head as he got closer, and when multiple landed on his face and tried to sting through his thick feathers and hard keratin crest he rubbed his face against the rough bark and honked in agitation. He was up too far to give up now, literally. The trees where tall and he had managed to climb a good amount using his tail as a balance as he clambered up the woody trunk of the tree before he finally go to the swaying branch. It was relatively thick, thick enough for the thin and lanky adolescent cryo to walk on. All he'd have to do is knock it down. Easy and simple. As he tried to gain footing on the branch more bees swarmed him and he snapped at them only to instantly regret it as bees stung the only viable part of him they could - the insides of his mouth. He squawked and clawed at his own face to get the bees out of his lips and gums from his snapping. He let out an annoyed growl as he shook more stings off before deciding to simply just go for it, what's the worst that could happen?

The answer was "Bees". Lots of Bees. He slapped the hive off the branch with his claws and was instantly swarmed. He squawked and honked, stumbling back before hearing a groan, then splintering before a loud snapping crack rang out as the whole branch went down, the rest of the hive included. As Primadonna landed, he grabbed a mouthful of comb, honey pouring down his face as he sprinted full speed away from his tiny yellow and black pursuers as they gave chase. He doesn't know how long he ran but by the time the stings stopped, he was back near his green metal rock, honeycomb in hand (mouth?) and feathers soaked in honey. He shook and scratched at himself with hand and foot, rubbing against his rock to get rid of the last few remaining bees stuck in the mixture of dense feathers and honey. He put his honeycomb on his rock, admired it and gave a victorious honk to end his hunt.