Ender's mind buzzes like a beehive. His thoughts are those winged insects that melittologists can't explain their ability to fly. Like bees, his questions and curiosity zip out of his head and into the big open world in search of something satisfying. He unceasingly gleans the day's nectar,
tirelessly bringing it home where more work is done in
turning it into sweet golden knowledge.
He is so willing to share the honey. Just ask him anything and he'll pour a cup into your hands.
The wheels in his head turn. And between the wheels and the bees I'm exhausted and dizzy.
I love you Ender, you'll kill school.