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A subtle buzz filled the air,

eliminated from the hollow of a willow tree,

or a sprawling green meadow met an old forest.

The willow's drooping arms gave the impression that nature was tired,

but that was just an illusion.

The picturesque meadow was bustling with life.

Fairy friends played in golden rays of sun, passing time leisurely as they searched for a snack.

Blossoms of all shapes, sizes and colours dotted the patchwork of grass.

There were white ones with yellow centres, bright red ones, long purple ones, and many more.

As if a giant had painted the field with a rainbow paintbrush,

and they all swayed in harmony with the wind.

But Bella didn't know any of this because she'd never left the hive.

There.

That hollow spot in the willow tree is the place she called home,

and what a home it was.

From the outside, the hive looked like a bundle of pale, drying leaves that had been stuffed

into a tree trunk. Only the most diligent eye would be able to spot the slightly different

...