The ladybug offered a few options, every single one he had to feel the fabric between his fingers. Symon couldn’t wear anything with a bad texture. He had to make sure the fabric wasn’t too coarse, but wasn’t too soft. Wool is too itchy, sherpa and velvet were much too soft and warm, he could feel every ridge and bump of corduroy and tweed, and denim-- a pox on whoever invented that dreadful sandpapery fabric. Truly his tastes in clothes often made it difficult to shop for. Too many suits for men were made with terrible fabrics that burned against his skin. He could never truly explain it to his family, how he could feel every fiber and seam in his clothes. How the sensation on his skin never truly left his mind, just adding onto the constant stimuli and noise of the world. They couldn’t understand how the feeling made his skin crawl and tear it off. How that sensation would linger and make his skin tingle even after removing it, as if the sensation was stuck to him. In this moment, he could only feel the stares of his mother, growing weary at every rejection at a shop. And then when he finally found something he found safe, he’d wear it as often as he could, until it was full of holes and the seams were ripping. Inevitably, the exhausting process of finding clothes would start once again.

Just like before, Symon found his fingers dissatisfied with every fabric he touched. At this scale, everything was thicker, and now he could feel every individual thread brush up against his pads. Without looking, he could imagine his companions with the same exacerbated looks burning through the back of his skull. But instead, he’d glance at Aniso, who was mirroring Symon and feeling the fabrics himself. He’d eventually find a teal dress shirt with ruffled cuffs, he took Symon and guided it to the shirt to give it a feel himself. To his surprise, the fabric felt nice between his fingers. Smooth, soft and cool to the touch. It was cotton and it felt nice. Aniso helped him with the pants, finding a dark pair that were in rough condition, but they were airy and not too tight around the legs. 

“That’s what you’re choosing? Okay,” She shrugged, trying her best not to judge his decision, even if it’s not a look she would have chosen. “Go ahead and try them on.”

Symon changed into the clothes and embarrassingly struggled to navigate around his wings and tail. Aniso showed him a button on the pants that opened up a hole he pushed his abdomen through, and gently guided his sensitive wings through a slit in the back of the shirt. He'd have to get used to that. The pants were loose around his waist so Mrs. Coco cut a length of red yarn and tied it around as a belt. He tugged at the sleeves of his shirt in satisfaction.

“That looks nice on you, but it feels like it’s missing something… Ah, actually I have just the thing!” She pulled out a black poncho with neon green trim around the edges. “This matches your pallet perfectly!”

She threw the poncho over his shoulders. and clasped it closed with a gold pin. The color stood high and kept his neck warm, and suddenly he felt a lot less exposed.

“Wow, this is actually very nice.” He admitted.

“So it’s a yes?” 

“It’s a yes.” Symon smiled, nuzzling his face into the collar of the poncho.

“Yeah! You look good!” Aniso cheered. He fluttered over to Mrs. Coco. “What do I owe you?”

“Awe this one’s on the house, you do so much for this town you deserve it.” She pinched his cheeks.

“Aw shucks Mrs. C…” He grinned. “Well we really ought to get going. Thanks so much for the clothes.”

“You’re very welcome, and it was nice meeting you Symon.” 

“It was nice meeting you too, ma’am.” He bowed his head and left alongside Aniso.

Soon he was back in Aniso’s arms flying around, where he finished his rounds in the tree fairly quickly.

“Was that really everything? It seems such a waste to have a delivery service in such a small space.” Symon noted.

“You think I just delivered in the grotto?” He smirked as he flew both of them out through the canopy protecting the hollow tree, until they were high enough to be above the tree's branches. “My mail route isn’t done yet.”

 He flew off towards the north, over the treetops, before diving into the leaves. Symon yelped as they nose dived towards the ground, only narrowly avoiding collision when Aniso pulled up inside a flower field, kicking up petals as he did. The field was an expansive sea of colorful flowers of all types. A garden so diverse definitely was not natural, it was cultivated, but by who?

As they flew, Symon reached down and felt the soft petals graze his hands. He picked up on the smell of lilacs and roses, which not only reached his nose, but tickled his antennae. Soon, he got a whiff of honey overtaking the flowers. He turned his gaze to spot a beehive. But it was no ordinary cluster of wax and paper, it was massive. Columns of round, pale yellow hive rose in each direction like the pillars of a grand castle, there were multiple smaller entrances from which ladies with black and yellow striped dresses fluttered in and out busily; but the main entrant was large, with platform to land on and a heavy gate.

Aniso rang a bell that hung outside the gate, “Delivery!” He announced with a chipper sing-song tone, and the gate rose to allow them inside. 

As soon as the gate opened the smell of honey became overwhelming. Symon immediately pressed his hands to his nose, as the extreme sweetness of the hive was so intense, it was nauseating. The hallway that opened up to them was grand, with orange ceramic tile lining the ground, and every wall around them opening up into pale hexagonal cubbies capped off with the succulent golden nectar.

Buzzing around the space were small little bee women, with pale yellow skin and black hair pulled into buns. Like the ants, they were uniform and identical looking. All of them wore a variation of the same dress with the oversized skirts and the black and yellow patterns. They were working hard moving products around, many of them carrying pouches overflowing with pollen.

Symon would watch the strange ritual they’d perform when the collectors would come back into a hive. They'd perform a brief little dance, elegant but strategic, ending with a little pirouette. Her sisters would nod in understanding and fly out into the sky themselves. Others fill jars of honey and carry them on palettes deeper into the hive.

They all seemed to barely notice when Aniso arrived, but all of their eyes were on Symon.

“Hello? I have a package.”

“Ah! I’ll take that!”One bee chirped with a bubbly tone. “It’s so nice to see you.” She glanced at Symon, her abdomen twitching defensively. “Whose this you have with you? I’ve never seen him before.”

Symon tensed as the bee tapped her antennae against him.

“Oh this is Symon. He’s new to the grotto.” Aniso answered.

“Is he like an assistant of yours?” She cocked an eyebrow. “You know only authorized miinu are allowed near the hive.”

“Yes yes, I am aware, he’s just joining me while I make my deliveries. Speaking of…” He pulled out a package from his bag as a distraction. “Delivery from the carpenter ants!” 

“Oh yes! Our honeydew!” She swiftly took the box from him. “Ah, you saved us a lot of trouble, I’ll let this… Symon, situation go. But in the future, you should really let the girls know if you're going to bring handsome strangers over. You know how jumpy they can get.”

“That’s two people calling you handsome.” Aniso grinned and nudged Symon with his elbow.

Symon let out a nervous laugh and rubbed his arm. 

“Oh by the way, one of the bakers wanted to thank you for helping her track down the rare tulip breed she needed, so, have this.” She pulled out a loaf of sweet smelling pastry that was the same texture as banana bread. 

“Aw! Tell her thanks for me, it's really no trouble, really.” He said, taking the bread. “Symon! You really gotta try this stuff, it’s so good!” 

Before Symon could object, he was being handed a piece of the bread that Aniso ripped from it. It was fluffy and squishy in his hands. He gingerly took a bite, and was hit with the flavor of honey sprinkled with something that tasted almost floral and earthy. Was that pollen he was eating? It was delicious. 

“What is this?” He asked.

“Bee bread!” Aniso answered. “It’s made with honey and pollen and these girls make some of the best honey around.”

Symon swallowed thickly, suddenly remembering something he learned when he was in school. Real bees make honey by drinking nectar and processing it in their stomachs to form honey, which afterwards they regurgitate it. That was a gross enough thought on his own, but now he had to wonder… did the bee miinu make it this way?

“Uh, Symon? You’re making that weird face again.” Aniso said. “And you’re buzzing.” 

“I…” His stomach growled aggressively as a reminder that he hadn't eaten a proper meal in days. He swallowed his disgust and tried to put the uneasy thought to the back of his mind so he could eat the bread. “It's delicious…” he admitted.

After bidding goodbye to the bees, Aniso had one more stop to make. Out far from the village, a human-size mailbox sat rusted from age and overgrown with weeds. It overlooked a gravel path that hadn’t been maintained in some time, being reclaimed by grass. Of course, the mailbox hadn’t gone unaltered by the Miinu’s presence. What was once a place for storing human mail, now had gears and rope grafted to its structure, and a sign that read “Outgoing mail” in Miinuvian text. A makeshift landing platform on the side allowed The two to stand by as Aniso pushed up the mail flag, now acting as a lever that set off a steady descension of the mailbox’s door like the drawbridge to a castle. 

Aniso flew into the mailbox, “I hope she still shows up today. I'm a little later than normal after showing you around” He said peeking from the metal wall of the box. “Not that I mind of course.

“Who is ‘she'?” Symon asked as he followed, carefully jumping from the ledge on the side onto the door of the mailbox, just to lose his balance slightly.

Inside the mailbox was furnished with a little desk attended by no one, and dozens of cubbies lining the wall. The cubbies were made of wood with rounded holes dotted throughout, it reminded Symon of the holes carpenter bees would make in old trees. Aniso diligently place any undelivered mail in the cubbies. He then checked inside a large  bin, that looked to be an old mint tin.

“Empty, good, that means she hasnt been here yet.”

“Who is she??” Symon reiterated.

Aniso only answered with a smirk as he gestured towards another clear tin inside the mailbox. It was filled to the brim with seeds and nuts. Aniso opened the cap and let a few spill out onto the floor before picking them up and spreading them onto the flat mail door. Symon had a confused look and was about to ask a question, when Aniso shushed him and pushed him back under the cover.

Moments passed before Symon heard flapping and the cooing of a pigeon echo through the forest. Soon the sunlight was blotted out as a large bird landed on the door, shaking it. The pigeon quickly started pecking at the seeds greedily. Around its neck was a basket tied onto a ribbon. While the animal was distracted, Aniso flew up and opened the basket. He rummaged through it, taking out the mail inside and dumping the rest of his bags' contents back in.

Symon took a few more tentative steps back, “You use pigeons for mail deliveries?”

“Of course!” Aniso answered. “Do humans not? They are really intelligent creatures you know, they can navigate with the magnetic field of the planet.”

“Yes yes. I'm aware. Humans certainly used to do that once upon a time, but we've since developed more--” he looked the bird up and down. “reliable methods of delivery. Regardless, are you not afraid it will attack you.”

“This ol’ girl? Nah.” Aniso scratched under the feathers of the pigeon's neck affectionately. “As long as she's well fed, she's a sweetheart.”

As soon as the bird was done with her meal, she fluttered her wings and took off back into the forest.

“See? Hard worker.” Aniso said. He then checked through the mail he grabbed. “Without those pigeons, we'd never have contact with the other villages. Ooh! Dr. Leif got another letter from his brother in Treasure City, he'll be happy to see that when he gets back.

Symon took in the information. “How many other villages are there?”

“Oh a lot. But there's only 5 stone capitals. Ours is just the smallest.”

“Have you ever met someone from those villages?”

Aniso shrugged. “Eh, sometimes. There's some visitors who come in and out but the Grotto isn't really the big hub it used to be.”

“Oh. I figured with your job perhaps you had traveled to these places personally.”

Anisos's smile faltered to one of worry for only a brief second before returning to normal, but it was just enough for Symon to notice. “Oh no no, I don't leave town.” 

“I see.” Symon paused to think. “You know my job forced me to be quite well traveled. To think I could have passed one of your villages many times without knowing about it. I wonder if I'll see any when I eventually have to leave.”

“Well we don't have to think about that right now because you're too injured to be going anywhere.” Aniso said quickly and tersely as if wanting to drop the conversation.

“Ah, right.” Symon slunk, “Sorry.”

Aniso patted him on the shoulder, just as chipper as ever, “Nah you didn't do anything wrong. But you've been running all over town, maybe it's time we head back and recuperate.”

“Yeah.” Symon murmured uneasily. “Perhaps.”