ಥ‿ಥ
A cool breeze woke Pierre, he had been sleeping soundly, mainly because he was too scared to make a sound than anything else.
Pierre yawned and stretched out his wings, careful not to make a sound, he was still very scared of the wasps.
They'd been searching all day yesterday, only letting Pierre have a break when nightfall, but even so, Pierre was sleeping then.
There was no noise from the wasps, so he planned to make his escape now. A quiet hum started, like an engine coming to life. Steadying himself, Pierre got ready and pushed off of the tree, using it to propel him forward.
He sped past the hive, the clicking of his wings waking the wasps, but he was faster. By the time the first wasp had exited the hive, Pierre had already flown over to another tree, about 10 meters away.
The wasps didn't know where Pierre had gone, but they were pissed. A measly cicada dared to intrude on their territory, they weren't going to let this go, after all, they were being friendly enough to let the female wasp hive near the border of their territory, they didn't want any more bugs.
(Read the AU in chapter notes if you don't understand)
They searched far and wide, looking for a way to find Pierre, but to no avail. After an hour, they assumed the annoying cicada wouldn't come out of hiding, so they'd try to catch him a little later.
Pierre was tired, obviously he couldn't stay in one place, and multiple hiding spots he was previously at had been checked by the wasps, so he was constantly on the move. Shuffling your body, and trying to keep quiet when your body was designed to make loud noises was hard, but Pierre managed. Somehow.
(づ ◕‿◕ )づ
A soft sweet scent fills the air, and as soon as Pierre smells it, he's fallen for the trap. Swap, plant swap was what was releasing the smell, and cicadas, Pierre included, loved to eat sap.
Hesitating for a second, Pierre contemplated, but he already knew what he was going to do. He spread his wings wide, a light shine from sun and he'd already been spotted.
He flew, high in the sky —at least high to him— he was, making his way to the scent. Hidden in the tree line, rows upon rows of wasps sat, eagerly eyeing him. There are about 2000 to 3000 wasps in a nest, this specific hive having 2300 wasps. 300 were looking for Pierre, 700 were staying in the hive doing general duties, and the rest were exploring, either looking for prey or swapping children with the female hive.
A small gathering of Dandelions were sitting together, the scent of sap too strong around them to be natural, as if someone had intentionally coated it with sap, but Pierre was young, fresh, he didn't know.
A grey spore sat on one of them, light in colour, but it could do deadly damage. Pierre didn't see it.
Pierre landed on a dandelion nearby the one with the spore, the wind blowing away from his wings made the spore once again airborne, and the wasps made their attack.
300 wasps surrounded Pierre, eagerly eyeing him up, like food, like prey. A wasp was unlucky enough to be hit in the face with the spore, forcing him to inhale it, he sneezed and coughed, but the spore was in him, so he ignored it and swallowed it properly.
The wasps raced towards the surprised Pierre, aiming for him. Pierre ducked under the dandelion, fluttering his wings and forcing himself to ,move forward.
Pierre buried himself into the dirt, hiding under the ground and masking his scent. The wasps lost him, but it was close.