The terror-confusion-fear-distress was stifling.
BRAIN BURST. Little could no longer smell Mother. Little no longer felt connected to Mother. Like a spider web that had tethered her to her Mother and Sisters had snapped. No connection, no obligation, no motivation to work, no motivation to help. She was Separated. The scuttling and the bustling and the buzzing in the nest told Little that the few remaining Sisters could sense it too: Mother was gone.
Little prodded with her antennae through the stench of abandonment and could faintly smell She-Who-Takes-The-Scentless. She was in the same corner of the nest, the same spot she had been for the past two Sun Cycles. Little gently crawled over and over her body. It’s me, your Little, she sang.
g…ggg…get…####… She-Who-Takes-The-Scentless dipped her antennae slightly.
Mother is gone, can you smell it? Only a few sisters are left.
Little pushed She-Who-Takes-The-Scentless toward a nectar pot. Here, Little sang, Drink the Life Liquid. It’s Lilac. She-Who-Takes-The-Scentless extended her tongue and drank.
Little ensured over the past two Sun Cycles that She-Who-Takes-The-Scentless was full of nectar. But regardless how much Little made her drink, she knew she was hollow, nothing inside. And now Mother was gone.
Grief-uncertainty-loss-confusion gripped Little. With so few sisters left how would they tend to the cocoons? They must be kept warm. The larvae must be fed. With Mother gone no one would be Called to Sky-World to forage. Little could feel the remaining sisters skittering helter-skelter with no Purpose. Then Get-out-ggg###–ett##outtt>>>!!! (terror-confusion-fear-distress) and two more sisters fled the nest.
By the end of the Sun Cycle Little and She-Who-Takes-The-Scentless were all that were left.