Daphne loved and she was loved, but each ant life was so fast, it was like the love a person feels for a fleeting bird in the sky. Though she could care for them as a whole (and she did), they lived and died too quickly for her to recognise them or love them as individuals.

They understood this, for the sense of longing in her nectar never went away, though they loved her and cared for her. They, in turn, longed that their loved one could be filled with the same joy that she inspired in them.

So they set forth from her highest branch, on tiny parachutes that they crafted from her leaves. They set forth to find her something that would make her happy. Each one that left founded a new colony in different parts of the wood. They landed at the bases of new trees, of cold, unfeeling trees, and they made these places into homes. They continued to spread in search of something that would please Daphne, and they would send daily envoys and messengers with bits of moss or especially lovely mushrooms that they thought she might like.