Chapter Text
DISCLAIMER:
THE ANT BEHAVIORS AND OPINIONS DEPICTED IN THIS WORK ARE NOT INDICATIVE OF REAL ANT PRACTICES OR SOCIAL STRUCTURE.
Leaf traversed the arching blades of grass as she scavenged for something to bring back to the Colony, the same way she’d been since sunrise today. There’s absolutely no way she could get distracted this time and show up empty-clawed again. Leaf had made many careless mistakes in her life-cycle thus far but most recently she’d been reprimanded for forgetting her job in favor of “fruitless tasks”; absentmindedly watching the flowers sway in the breeze or feeling the thundering vibrations of the nearby river would have to wait.
She came upon a sunflower seed that looked promising and lifted it from the forest floor in her mandibles, turning around to make the long trek back to the Colony. Most of her days consisted of this: leave the Colony, find food, come back, leave again and do it over until sundown, wake up the following morning and do it again and again and— well, you get the point. It’s boring. Where’s the spontaneity, the fun, the pizzaz?
Leaf had voiced these thoughts to her friend and fellow Forager, Branch, one time while they were hauling a particularly large acorn.
“Why would you want any of that?” Branch asked her, taking careful steps backward as she hefted the acorn.
“Because there has to be more than just this! I mean, when’s the last time you saw a bird doing the same thing every day?”
Branch halted and twitched her antennae in agitation, “You’re watching birds? Are you trying to get eaten?”. She began moving again and continued, “Besides, we aren’t birds, and they’re lazy anyway. At least we have a purpose, something reliable and consistent. We’re lucky to have that kind of security.”
Suffice to say that Leaf didn’t have an argument for that. But something gnawed at her, that despite all the security in the world, something was missing.
At this point she had made her way to the edge of the anthill and descended with her bounty of one single sunflower seed. Following the other Foragers, she carried her sunflower seed further into the depths of the tunnel system, passing by a few Tunnelers on her way to the food cavern. She watched them work at the walls, chipping and carving away the dirt, and thought to herself that they were lucky; at least they got to make something.
Now inside the food cavern, she dropped her contribution onto the pile. This was her last delivery today, since nightfall was approaching, and she had only brought back this sunflower. It was something at least, but the queen would not be happy. Despite Leaf’s efforts today she had still allowed herself to get distracted between forages and spent a good amount of time knocking loose the white tufts of an old dandelion just to watch them gracefully float to the ground.
At the end of each day, evryant gathers in the community cavern to report to the queen on that day’s progress and Leaf was not excited to announce her meager earnings. She quietly joined the growing crowd near the back, hoping to go unnoticed.
“Okay, what’s wrong?” came Branch’s voice from next to her.
So much for going unnoticed. Leaf turned to look at her. “Nothing, everything’s fine,” she lied.
“You’re clicking your mandibles like you do when you’re nervous about something—” she gasped, lowering her voice to a stage whisper. “Did you come back empty-clawed again? Leaf! Queen Frost told you if that happened again you'd be cast out and stripped of the Colony pheromones.”
“I brought something! I got a sunflower seed! I’m just,” she waved her antennae haphazardly, “nervous that Queen Frost will think it’s not enough.”
Branch was about to reply when Queen Frost entered the cavern and the crowd began to move forward as each ant began recounting what they had contributed today. They both shuffled forward, getting closer to Leaf’s imminent humiliation. She just hoped Antony wasn’t here tonight to say anything about it. He did practically nothing for the Colony yet somehow never received any reprimand. He was there to populate the Colony and little else, lazing around whenever he wanted but still pointing out evryant else’s shortcomings— especially Leaf’s. Who did he think he was, the Queen?
Leaf was getting closer to the front of the queue, where she could see that, unfortunately, Antony was there standing near the queen and vaguely listening to reports, picking idly at a raspberry. He paid closer attention however, when he saw that Leaf was approaching, no doubt excited to witness her pitiful report to the Queen. She twitched her antennae in anticipation.
“One sunflower seed. Today. My Queen.”
“That’s it?” chimed in Antony.
The Queen gave an impatient click of her mandibles. “I recall telling you that you need to do more for this Colony. You may have something tangible this time, but it is hardly substantial. The bare minimum cannot continue to be accepted.” She paused, thinking. “Forager Leaf, you are relieved of your duties.”
Oh great Myrmekes she’s going to be cast out. Where will she go? Surely another Colony wouldn’t want her.
Queen Frost continued, “Loathe as I am to reward this disappointing performance, I believe a change in responsibilities may help you contribute more effectively. Starting tomorrow you are to join the Tunnelers. Only so long as you do your duties there; another ant in this Colony, Sand, is also looking to join the Tunnelers. Only one Tunneler is needed at this time so you will both be working in a probationary capacity.” She dismissed Leaf with a wave of her antennae and began to listen to the next ant’s report.
Antony took a bite from his raspberry and remarked condescendingly, “Even you can’t screw up that job. Right?”
Leaf began to walk back to the resting cavern, ignoring Antony and thinking about this new life change.
She didn’t dislike the idea of Tunneling, on the contrary she thought that it might be a good change. While she mourned the fact that she would no longer be able to see the surface and everything interesting there while she works, she felt herself becoming enthusiastic at the notion of getting to make something. To build. Maybe she could arrange the tunnels into fun shapes when they connect, or even make the tunnel itself something other than a regular circle, like those hexagonal patterns in the honeycombs bees make.
She made herself comfortable in a nice corner of the cavern and drifted to sleep, thinking of all the creative possibilities.