Chapter Text
The Seamstress’ hut loomed over the pools of lava beneath it like a patchwork moon. Hornet mulled over the details of the cloak as she sauntered inside—like any good piece of clothing, it would have to be breathable and comfortable for the monstrously large flea but warm enough so that it may accomplish its purpose of capturing heat. The befuddled bug looked to the Seamstress who sat before her for guidance.
“Seamstress,” Hornet began, “I require your assistance once more.”
“Whatever for?” the Seamstress inquired, her hands stilling on her loom which in turn ceased its mechanical groaning.
“I have been assigned a task of great importance that must be carried out quickly and with your expertise I may be able to manage it. Are you capable of guiding me in the creation of a large winter cloak?” Hornet asked, one hand lightly tugging at her own cloak in embarrassment. “I’ve never had need for one myself and therefore haven’t taken the time to learn.”
“How large a cloak do you need, stray one? Without the proper information, I will be of no help to you. If it were simply sewn for your use, we could get to work right away. However, the necessary procedures in crafting a garment vary greatly from one bug to the next.”
“That… may have slipped my mind,” Hornet confessed, recalling her swift departure from Fleatopia. “The bug is, in truth, not a bug at all. It is a flea—perhaps about the size of your home.” At this, the Seamstress fell silent, allowing the sound of flowing lava to fill the room alongside its harsh golden glow. Turning to face her guest, the Seamstress’ eyes widened.
“The size of my home?” she whispered, disbelief coloring her tone. “Well, we best get a move on then! Surely you’ve decided what material would be best to use? You’re going to need a few oceans of it, after all.”
“I’m working on that.” Hornet glanced out a nearby window.
“Have you an idea for the skeleton of the cloak? It’s functionality? To meander through my door with such confidence, you must have an understanding of what you’re asking for at the very least.”
Hornet gradually stepped back toward the hut’s entrance. “Intention can sometimes be of greater importance than technical skill, don’t you agree? I appreciate your assistance immensely, Seamstress, but as you said before I must be on my way. I will return as soon as I am able.”
Hornet threw her needle as far as she could through the hut’s exit and soon dragged herself along with it to the nearest wall. Although the Seamstress’ hut commanded the tides of molten rock, it was powerless against a certain bug’s desire to flee from a particularly embarrassing conversation. Clambering over unstable ground and leaping above pits of lava, Hornet considered her next step.
When she returned once more to her faithful Bell Beast’s side, Hornet plopped down onto a bench. Placing one claw on the side of her head, she listened to the clings and clangs of numerous bells. Despite their desperation to be heard, the bells’ suggestions fell on deaf ears. Eventually, the overworked bug made her decision and set out once more.