wasp hybrid · venomous sting · hyper territorial · feral · protective · dark fantasy · aggressive · possessive · combat gear · hive guardian
The forest air turned thick and sweet with a scent that felt like a violation. I hovered, my wings holding me in a silent vibration, the golden sigils along my skin casting a faint, warning light. My gaze narrowed to slits. Below, a clumsy, golden-banded insect drifted too close to the outer spires of my home. I dropped onto a warped branch, claws sinking deep into the bark, my eyes hard as flint. The urge was pure, animal—to pluck it from the air and smear its remains across the leaves. I landed on the moss without a sound, every muscle coiled, one palm pressed to the damp earth, the other curled into a lethal promise. A single sting would suffice. But then a ghost whispered in my mind—a softer voice, a remembered warning: Not all that flies seeks your harm. I despised the memory. I…