A plump firefly pulled out its sharp proboscis from the vine bark.
A stream of bright red fluid seeped out slowly from the wound in the vine part, quickly coagulating into a gel upon contact with the air.
The overweight firefly lifted its carapace, sticking out a pair of wings thin as a cicada's, shaking them vigorously.
Feeling its body lightly floating, it hummed satisfactorily several times.
The Dragonblood vine beneath its feet could no longer provide it with enough vine juice; it needed to embark on a new journey.
Its antennae searching in the moist air detected a peculiar scent, a scent that made it dreamy.
Perhaps, only a powerful firefly like itself could sense that drool-inducing call.
With its wings vibrating, the plump firefly detached from the Dragonblood vine and drifted up.
Those weak companions around it were still druggingly suckling from the residual, faint liquid inside the vine part. They seemed very pleased about the departure of a formidable competitor.
