A Certain Type Of Harvest

Changelings are not bugs.

While many ponies may consider my race to be descended from insects—and in fairness to Equestrians, we changelings do, indeed, share some physical traits—it is certainly not the truth. In the matter of rank and hierarchy, especially so.

A hive must be started by a queen, that much is true. A male drone would always remain as such; even if he were to transform into a queen's body, he would have no success in procreating. However for female changelings—such as myself—it is quite possible to leave the hive to start up their own.

Why then, I hear you ask, are there not countless changeling hives scattered across the land? The answer is, as with many things in Equestria, simple: starvation.

A changeling can survive on standard food alone for a while, certainly; a week, perhaps, or maybe a little more if the dish was made with care. A wanna-be queen, however, needs so much more than a mere drone to live; if she is to survive, hatch her eggs, and build an empire, she needs love—more of it than a normal female drone can harvest, unless said drone is exceptional.

Queen Chrysalis had been such a drone in her youth, but had worked tirelessly to build her hive. She did not jump into action immediately; no, she took things steady, planned ahead. A key skill which many wanna-be queens lacked in their enthusiasm.

But now I found myself in such a position. I was alone, and scared to boot. My stomach growled, empty of a single drop of love. As I tried to stand, my legs felt shaky.

I couldn't survive on my own, though—not for long. I only had two options; search for my hivemates and regroup, or go it alone and start my own hive, with drones to collect love for me. Both seemed like awful options, but I had to decide quickly or risk starving to death.

I could be searching for my hivemates for weeks, by which point I would have surely starved. And so, with a watery nod, I buzzed up into the air and began to make my way back to civilisation.