Tamora hated bats. Actually, she hated most animals. They were messy, disobedient, smelly, and all around unpleasant to be around; but bats in particular she found difficult to trust. Ever since Beowulf had gotten his own, her entire life seemed to be tainted with the odor of bat somehow. So of course, Starflower had found it extremely entertaining to send her on the mission of discovering if this newly discovered den was full with painted or Dracula bats. 

Knowing her general luck, Tamora had known the answer before setting out, and it was even more clear now. Thousands of beady red eyes glared down at her, their chittering forming a chorus as she stepped into the darkness. As long as she was silent, they surely wouldn’t attack her… right? 

Their heads swiveled unnaturally as they watched her waltz into their home, wings occasionally spread in warning. Peering into the dark, Tamora could make out the smaller shapes of babies clinging to their parents, faces buried in the protective fur of mothers more interested in baring their fangs at Tamora than their youth’s fear. Some things stay the same through species, she decided. 

Tamora wasn’t entirely certain how much proof Starflower would demand, and gods forbid the young princess tried to make her way here herself. Although the bats may take a liking to her, her shrill voice might be close enough to convince them that she was one of their own. 

Smiling to herself at the thought, Tamora continued wading through the swarm of mammals. Well, she was entirely convinced that these were Dracula bats, and if Starflower was unsure, she could very well come down and investigate them herself. 

Tamora couldn’t leave the cavern fast enough, eagerly distancing herself from the overwhelming numbers of predatory creatures. She shuddered, vowing that she’d make peace with Beowulf’s little bat- all things considered, she could be much worse.