Holding On

16

5 years ago - Tommy's POV

My lungs burn as I suck in a slow, deep breath of cold spring air, watching them steamy curls if fog that I breathe out.

Tubbo always thought that I looked like a dragon when this happened, but I would roll up a leaf and pretend it was a cigarette.

Today Tubbo and I are doing what we like to call a 'Blind Hunt', with our rendezvous point being our special lake.

A Blind Hunt is where we both take our bow and arrows, game bags and supplies then head into the forest, going our seperate ways. We then spend the day hunting, gathering and exploring the forest, seeing who can hunt, gather or find the coolest things to eat or places to go.

We meet at the lake about four hours before sunset, then gather firewood and goof around.

That's how we found the lake, except our rendezvous point used to be my house so that we could pass game to Wilbur, who'd make delicious meals out of our simple little competition.

That's how I ended up here, frozen to the bone -it doesn't make sense, I'm wearing three layers-, prowling through the woods at the crack of dawn.

My hands grip tightly onto my loaded bow, ready to shoot at a moment's notice.

My game bag's already stuffed with mushrooms (ones we found in the ol' reliable edible plants book) and other plants, including nettles.

We use those for nettle tea back at home, and although I never had much of a passion for it, Tubbo loves the stuff, so I always snag any nettles that look slightly overgrown.

I tie a rag around my mouth as I shuffle, to stop any of my steamy breath from creeping out and alerting potential prey that I'm in the area.

It's almost deer season, where the herds migrate back here for our warm summers.

Occasionally there's some early strays, and we get a decent amount of meat for dinner each night.

The trees tell me that I'm almost at the lake, and I've only been out for two hours.

The only meat I've shot is a turkey and a rabbit, this will be quite a depressing haul.

I trudge further into the woods, there always was better prey nearer the lake.

That's when I spot it.

A beautiful doe, its sleek, shiny coat glimmering in the morning sun.

I freeze. If I so much as crunch a leaf, it'll be gone before I can blink.

I silently raise my bow, and take aim. If I can shoot this, we'll have enough meat in the house for a week.

As I release my arrow, I look away.
I never did like this part.

As I hear a dull thud, I know my arrow has found its target.

I grab a nearby branch and tie the doe by its legs to the thing with some rope I had in my bag, then haul it over my shoulder and set off for the lake.

I will go directly there, as I am no longer capable of shooting more meat, as if we'd need it.

I can see Tubbo's fragile silhouette already, slowly approaching something.

But what?

I hook the stick that's carrying the doe over a branch of the tree that's undee our treehouse, then saunter over to where Tubbo is.

I can feel my eyes widen as I work out what he's doing. He's crouched beside a bee's nest, being swarmed by the things.

"TUBBO! WHAT'RE YOU DOING!" I screech, waving my hands around wildly.

"Oh I'm ok Tommy, I'm great actually. " ̶S̶a̶y̶s ̶t̶h̶e ̶s̶w̶a̶r̶m ̶o̶f ̶b̶e̶e̶s. Oh wait, scratch that.

Says Tubbo.

'Why are they not stinging him? ' I puzzle, scratching the top of my head.

"I think they like me Tommy! "

I can hear Tubbo's giggles from within the hum of the bees, that seen to stick to his last statement.

"I think you're a bee-whisperer Tubbo. " I chuckle, not daring to come any closer to him.

I hear a muttered "Excuse me... " as the sea of bees parts, as if following Tubbo's commands.

"Woah! " He splutters, as shocked as I am at the bees' movements.

"Hey Tubbo, "

"Yeah? "

"Say the word 'up' ! " I shout, as I'm stood a good ten metres away from him, not to mention the buzz of thousands of bees.

"Okay... Here goes... "

"UP! "

A hurricane of bees ascends into the sky, swirling like a tsunami of wings and brightly coloured stripes.

I can only stare in a daze as Tubbo shouts various commands at the ocean of insects in the sky, reinforcing them with wild hand gestures.

A devious grin spreads over his face all of a sudden, and I'm suddenly filled with slight dread.

However, my dread soon disappears as an old memory resurfaces.

I was talking to Wilbur, sat on the kitchen counter, watching some bees buzz around the lavender in our garden.

The one statement that sticks clearly in my head was my own: "If only I could mind-control you, I'd be so powerful. ".

Tubbo's still grinning like a madman, but I can't tell why until he points his index finger at me.

"Up."

As the realization kicks in, I'm scrambling away, running as fast as my feet will carry me. The hum of the swarm is getting louder, and I know I will not outrun them.

I shriek as I feel something tug at my collar, and I realize I have been caught.

I can hear Tubbo's maniacal laughter, but something's off.

It's coming from above me.

I tilt my head towards the sky to be met with a wheezing Tubbo glaring down at me, hovering in the air, supported by thousands on thousands of bees.

I'm still running, but I'm not going anywhere.

As I'm hoisted into the air by Tubbo's army, my arms flail around as I try to get a grip on something.

I'm on my back, staring up into the clouds, lying on a bed of bees.

I guess I was correct in saying that
Tubbo is a bee-whisperer.