Hives in more ways than one.
There’s something fascinating about bees. Intrepid little miracle workers, spending their entire lives working towards the survival of their hive. Jobs without which the ecosystem here on earth would look very different. They can be cute, fuzzy, but they’re still insects. Skeletons, equal parts fashionable and functional, on the outside. Compound eyes for seeing things they have ten other ways to observe. And of course all the creeps and crawls that put some people off, but pull others in.
An ingenious system of communication allows swarms as large as millions to function as a single collective. Build. Breed. Forage. Feed. For every problem, they have a solution. Strong summer? They cool down their hive by flying water in. Thief nearby? They ward them off by bumping up their beehinds in a wave-like fashion. Unwanted queen? Kill her. Rival swarm? Fight them.
Bees hatch, pupate, mature, then set out to do exactly what they were born for. Nothing more. Nothing less. Everything with eerie efficiency and a seemingly high sense of honor. Robotic, almost, but not like an office worker. They make powerful use of nature, never letting nature use them.
All that, and they keep our botanical world afloat too. Big burden for such small creatures.