Stavanger Bay It's coming at me like a burning flame

The whole thing about when baby animals were born was kind of confusing to Charon, but he decided not to dwell on it too much longer. He just nodded, said "Oh," and decided that hunting for honey was way more thrilling than chatting on about silly things like when he was born. Apparently it was just a normal thing, though Charon didn't really understand why Thistle said that most baby animals were born in spring, if they were really born all year round. Well, there was more important business to attend to beside pondering about the miracle of birth right now: honey-hunting.

It looked like Thistle was going to let him have the first peek into the tree, so Charon carefully poked his nose into the tree to see if he could find anything. There he saw a weird lumpy grey thing. "Is this a 'hive'?" the youth whispered to Thistle, as though afraid the bees would wake up from his voice, and he briefly looked back at her. "Now what do we do?" he whispered, not sure if it was safe to disturb the beehive. He was only a beginning Naturalist, so he had yet to learn what was the best next step and decided to let the adult do it — or at least tell him what to do.