Some might see his life as worse than death. But now, this was his life.  

He didn’t like being in the cage. A strong will to be freed, a hatred of being enclosed, strung Be around his feathers. The bird clacked his beak against the bars of his cage as the woman worked at her cauldron in another room, ignoring his sounds, her back against him. Be hastily flew inside the small enclosure, thrashing his wings around himself, throwing his body against the walls. His cries from the pain echoed around the shack, but the dark woman didn’t show interest. She cast him a cruel eye and slammed the door behind her.

Be cried out louder now. He couldn’t be here any longer, he didn’t belong here. Something drove him desperately to fly, to not be stuck, to be outside. Why, he did not know. All he knew was pain as he crashed himself into the bars again with a screech.

The cage fell onto the table it stood upon and rolled over to its edge till it fell onto the wooden floor. Be knew more pain as the pushback hit his whole body, making him thrash against the cage more vigorously. The fall was enough to dent the lock, and with his final push Be slammed open the door, disgracefully flew out of the cage and landed on the table he was locked up on. He opened his wings fully, checking them, and preened them quickly of loose feathers.

Be looked up at the door with curiosity, but no one came out of it. Something about that woman locking him up without respite felt as if a spell had broken. He no longer felt trained to come. The bird’s gaze went to the open window. He hopped onto the windowsill, sat for a bit, tested his wings, and then he flew out.

He landed several feet away from the shack onto a barren tree. His wings felt disused. He also felt weak. He hadn’t eaten in days. And yet, something drove him to fly. To fly, and to watch.

He smelled something strong not far away. As long as he was away from the shack, that was all he needed. Be gathered up his strength and flew towards the pungent stench.

A rat, not long dead, strewn under a tree. Be did not hesitate. He landed and started tearing at its flesh. His empty belly was becoming satisfied. He heard some noise coming from above him. Soon, other birds landed near him. Some birds with red, bald heads and brown bodies, others with black heads and black feathers. Not many came as this was a paltry meal, but any food was food.

The smell of these birds felt familiar. They gathered around him, and they felt no different. Something inside Be made him at first stand away from the birds. A squeamish feeling. But after some time of them feeding, and Be seeing how similar they were to him, Be then felt that he wanted to be included. He did not want to be alone. He stood closer to them, and they did not protest. He felt that he was a part of them.

He ate the small rat till he had his fill. But hunger still struck him. One by one the birds took flight and Be did too. They took to the sky, each going in their own direction to feed, until someone dove down at the sight and smell of more carrion. This time, he found a dead fox near the side of a road.

Be landed and started to dig in, and some others joined in. Big thunder monsters flew across the dark ground near where they ate. Cars – that was it. Though they did not touch him, an instinct in Be made him stand away from the dark ground. Not all the birds knew, as some stood upon it, some dangerously close to these loud beings.

“Hey look, dad!” A voice called out from above. Be looked up to its source to see two people standing far above them on a hilltop. Two dog people, a father and his daughter in hiking gear. The girl was excitedly pointing down at him while holding binoculars. Be saw them as no use, and continuing feeding.

“Look dad, vultures!” the young girl shouted.

The father sneered. “Ugh, don’t look too much, honey. They’re eating a poor animal that was killed on the road. Disgusting creatures.”

The girl looked up at her father in admonishment. “But dad, they’re supposed to do that! Vultures are scavengers. They eat animals who are already dead so that we and all the other animals in the forest don’t get sick from them. Their stomachs are so corrosive, they can kill some of the world’s most dangerous diseases. They’re the reason the whole wooorld isn’t full of dead bodies right now!”

The father shook his head. “Dear, don’t say such things! You watch too many scary movies. I’ll have to have a talk with your mother about it. And those things are absolute savages. I’m sure they would attack you if we get too close. They’re too opportunistic and selfish – they just wait for somebody to die, then they just swoop in to eat them. Just awful. Dirty buzzards, I’m sure they carry those diseases. The world would be better off without them. Come on, honey, I’ve seen enough. Let’s go see those nice robins again- you love those.”

The father walked off with the girl trailing him, shouting once again “But daaaad-“ as they followed down the trail.

Be did not understand much of the words they said. Such beings were not trustworthy any longer. It was best to ignore them.

--

Be stayed with his committee at first for a few days, which then evolved into some weeks. The wake ate together, migrated towards better carrion grounds when needed, and roosted together in the trees or empty barns. They did not bother him, nor did he bother them. Something inside of Be started to calm. It was as if he wanted to continue being near them. It was always vague what his life was like before the woman took him. But even now, that was something he did not have memory for. All he knew now was his flock. He ate, slept, and flew with them. Anything else before that faded.

It was peaceful. Everyday the same. He liked foraging. There were always carrion near the dark paths. But some days were hard. One day while foraging, one of his flockmates dropped dead unexpectedly near a carcass the rest of the wake were about to eat. The other vultures flew away from the baited meat, telling Be that this was intentionally done. Perhaps what that man was saying was useful after all. There are people who want them dead.

Other times, Be would witness another vulture from his kettle being killed by the cars. Some just stood too close to the black trail, and the car would come so silently at first. But they were too fast.

Each moment was tragic. They mourned for their own, and then they left. They would never feed on their own kind.

Be felt as if he were living an entirely new life. With each loss, he felt the pain anew. He bonded with his kin, he had no one else, and to lose them so quickly and unexpectedly was something he never knew before. Life was unpredictable. He wanted to cherish these moments. But he, just as any other animal, only lived in the moment. Once the smell of the gone no longer lingered, memory went. However, the smell of memory always lingered.

Sometimes at night, during rare storms, he would dream. He would dream of himself with small stumps on his wings. Hazy, foggy dreams that he could not remember. In the dreams he felt a hurt inside of himself. And he would curl up into himself, making cries. He felt so alone. All he wanted was his flock. Once he made those noises, the others joined in to keep him close, making sure he was not alone. One vulture especially tried to make him feel at home. She wanted to help him feel less pain. She preened his wings and feathers, reminding him that he was with them.

His cries slowly died down. His dream was forgotten. He snuggled closer to them. He’s never had this before.

The world wanted them dead. They only had each other to depend upon.

--

Life went on. The trees started to bloom. As Be fed with the others, he noticed the vulture who was with him that night. She was elegant with earthy plumes, and her flight pattern was delicate. But she was fierce with her food, she hissed the most out of all of them and made herself look big if they got too close. She reminded him of someone, someone whom he longed to be with long ago, but he no longer remembered who.

He started to notice how the others would react to the season. Many already had their partners from previous clutches, faithful to their last breath. Others lost their lifelong partners, and they slowly started to look for new ones. Others were young and they were looking for their first mate.

Be had his eyes only for her. He wondered if she felt the same. He felt awkward, but instinct crept in. One day while the rest of the committee roosted on a tree next to a large, abandoned barn, he stepped over to the female and started to bop his head towards her, outstretch his wings, and made some grunting noises loudly through his nostrils as he pranced around her.

At first she seemed to be confused, but then she seemed to understand and became excited. She also stretched her wings and neck out towards him. She then excitedly started to hop and to bark. He was so happy to see she accepted this dance that he also started to hop and bark. They did this for several minutes, until finally they awkwardly hopped into the air together.

While they weren’t so elegant on their feet, they were in the air. He enjoyed playing tag with her. He’d fall in the air and she’d give chase, and then he’d rise back up and do the same to her. A game of chase, to see who was the fastest at diving and rising. It was thrilling, it was fun and freeing. He hadn’t felt this amount of joy in so long.

She seemed to know how to do this ritual better than he. Did she have a mate previously whom she lost before he joined? Or did this come more naturally to a bird who lived their whole life within a flock? Either way…he wanted to be with her. He wanted to start a family.

Family.

Once they landed back on the ground, natural urges started to take over. They found a quiet dead tree near the roosting area of the empty barn, and they started to spend more time together. They roosted inside of the tree, a perfect hollow, where they preened each other’s feathers. During the day, they would perch on their tree and watch the world go by. At night, one slept with the rest of the committee while one stood guard, sleeping in their tree.

They waited. It felt like forever to Be. But it finally happened. One day he flew back to their tree, and there his precious love was. That was when she stood up to reveal two eggs.

His eggs. Their eggs. What they had waited for so long was theirs. He’s never felt more love. He flapped his wings in excitement, and they both cuddled. He had a family. It was good.

This felt…so much easier. It felt so much more fulfilling. His need, a gaping hole inside him, was finally starting to come together. Why…did this feel better? Why was it easier like this?

His mate was starving. She flew out of the tree to find her first meal in 24 hours. It was a good thing he had already eaten before coming. Be made himself comfortable in the hollow, carefully keeping the eggs warm. Something inside him felt as though this was what he was made for.

The two of them settled into a routine. Each day, one came in to relieve the other of their nesting duties. Several days passed, weeks, yet still neither egg hatched.

Be started to get worried. His mate, he started to call her Hwa, reassured him to give it time. He hoped her words were true.

Days passed, and one day, as they were switching places once again, Be had a worry. What if…neither egg hatched? Would he lose his family? Would Hwa leave, knowing he couldn’t be a father? Would the only one who loved him enough to stay leave him forever? Was he that unlovable? Was he that horrid, wretched?

An early summer storm came through. He dreamt. He dreamt he had those stumps for feathers again. He saw himself as larger, much larger, with flightless wings and a huge head. He dreamt of that woman, chanting something. He dreamt…of many faces. Many faces that were angry at him, shouting at him. He dreamt of rage and vengeance and yearning and loss. And fear. So much fear. And pain. He had lost everything. Everything.

“Come back to me,” the chant went in and out. “Come back to me, you wretch, back to what you deserve…”

He sat on his eggs as this new image he saw himself as. He felt that same pull he felt when he was first transformed. The trained pull towards her. He shakily brought his featherless wings down to cover the eggs from beneath him, to protect them from her. He sneered at her face, hissing.

“No, no! Stay away from me! Stay away from my family! Stay away! Get away! Don’t come near me!”

“You know you don’t deserve this. You know you’re too high and mighty for it. You remember your memories? Good. Now, come back, and I’ll make sure you’ll always know that pain.”

“No!” he struggled away from the powerful pull. “Stay away from me! I just want to be left alone!”

He spat, and he spat and he spat against the threat. Thunder clapped, then finally-

A familiar sound of wings and a concerned whine woke him. Hwa stood at the entrance of the hollow, a worried look in her eyes. She was soaking wet as it was still raining outside. She shook the water off herself. Be looked inside the tree to see his corrosive spit eating at the bark in front of the nest. He remembered his nightmare. He gasped and quickly checked the eggs.

They were okay. Nothing broken. They seemed to be safe. He slowly sat back down, exhaling in relief. He raised his wings and checked himself fully. Yes…he was still a bird. He…

Something watery landed on his wing. Then another, and another. Be blinked and felt the liquid slide down his eyes and beak, landing on his wings. He started to shake, and he let out a cry. He didn’t know what this liquid was.

Hwa finally flew inside the hollow and sat near Be.

“A-a-a-are you okay-y-y-y, my l-l-love?” she asked in her own words, quivering. “A-are-are-are you okay?”

Be sniffed, then he rested his head on her shoulder. He brought his wings around her. Some of her wetness caught onto him. “I…I can’t do this. I-I-I-I can’t. I can’t do this.”

She brought her wings around him in response. “Yes, you can. You be good father. Very, very good father. You good. I know. I can tell.”

“No. No, I am not. If…if only you knew.”

“I know. I had mates. Good mates. I lost many. Many to traps, death. I lost many. You a good…you a good….”

Be sniffed again. He held her tighter. “I lost…many too,” he softly grunted. The memories seemed to rush in…

“You…also lost mates? Is that why you was all alone when us find you?”

“No-no, I-"

The tears came more strongly now. “I…I am not who you think I am. I-I was a different being then. I didn’t know…I don’t know…”

They sat in silence. He rested his head on her shoulder again.

“What is it, love? Tell me, and I will understand.”

“No. No, you can not understand. I…” he tried to remember. Suddenly, nothing came up. “I…I don’t remember.”

“Perhaps…perhaps it is better you don’t.”

Just as suddenly, they came back. “Oh, wait, yes! I do remember! I was…I was…” he paused, then lowly whined, “I was…a large no-fly.” Their term for a walking bird person.

In shock, Hwa looked him in the eye. “A…a large no-fly?” she grunted in disbelief. “You?”

He nodded sadly. He closed his eyes, trying hard to remember clearly. “Yes. I…” his memory started to fade. He tried to speak fast before it was all gone. “I was…not good. And…I was turned into who I am as punishment for my deeds. I…I was also a vulture when I was a large no-fly. I had…a plan. A plan that…helped me feel safe but…everything I knew was wrong…I lost it all…”

The last of it faded. “I had a…bad sleep. Saw…the no-fly who changed me. Trying to make me leave. I refused.” He opened his eyes. “That is all I know.” He let out a low cry in mourning for what he lost.

She mimicked his cry. Be was moved by her shared affliction, and he looked into her sweet, brown eyes. She has never judged him, ever. He whispered, worried for the first time for the two of them, "Would you...stop loving me...if I was bad?"

For a moment, her head bowed in focus. She leaned forward, sinking her head fully into Be's feathers. "No."

He brought his wings around Hwa, his continuous tears drip upon her feathers, his face hidden under the murk of the hollow. They sat in ailing silence.

Hwa's grip then lessened as she began to shake. “Will…will no-fly come?" She asked, her voice quivering. "Come hurt us? Our children? Take you away?” Her lighter grip tightened around his wing. "I want you to be safe."

Be’s damp face hardened. “I will fight. I will fight for you, I will fight for our children. For us, all of us, for my family. For my brothers and sisters who graciously took me in when I was alone. I should die first before forgetting that. I thank you, thank you all. I…I love.” He touched his beak with hers. She returned the gesture.

“And I love. And may I die first before seeing you be taken. It no matter what you was before. You a good father. I see that you are. You a good. You a good mate. You a good father. I see it. I always see it.”

Be closed his eyes and wrapped his neck around Hwa. His body wracked with a grateful sob. He was lucky he was here with someone who didn’t care for his past, who loved him for who he was now. He has his everything right here. But then, he felt something move under him. A little poke. A…a little cheep?

Hwa excitedly grunted. “They are hatching!”

Be got up and made room. A little hole was poking out of one of the eggs, and little cheeps were coming out of it. The other egg had faint outlines of a hole forming, slowly yet surely.

Be gasped. “Oh-! Oh, Hwa, our children are hatching! We are parents! I’m- I am so-!”

He sobbed again, and they touched their beaks in joy.

---

“Argh!” Magica cried out in front of her cauldron. “That stupid bird! No one’s ever broken my 'Home-Seeking' spell before! What makes him think he’s so powerful that he could?!”

She loudly groaned again, then whined, “And all I wanted was to have a bit of torturous fun with him. Show that delirious, power-hungry buzzard a lesson: never imprison Magica deSpell! Not to mention, especially, don’t toy with my mind…” she added in an undertone as she rubbed her head. She mustered up her strength again with a wand swish. “Well! No matter. I’ll just see how he’s fairing now, and I’ll try something a bit more distasteful. It’s not like I even care about losing him anyways, he is of no worth to me.”

An image was brought up in the cauldron. An image of someone who was once known as Bradford Buzzard, now a fully realized vulture, cuddling with his mate. And below him, two peeping, snorting newborn chicks, their eggshells still surrounding them.

Magica stared at this scene dumbfounded. “How did he…even-" And then she remembered how he yelled back at her when she attempted her spell again. With words. This is starting to bring up some unpleasant feelings.

“Wait, I thought this spell turned beings into non-sentient animals. If he was still able to understand me and speak words, then…”

In a rush, she quickly went over to her bookshelf to take the dreaded book out. She turned to the heavily thumbed page and read it over for the thousandth time. “Mhm yes, non-sentient! Then do…do non-sentient animals have their own language and thoughts? Then why did-“

The image of Poe came up in her mind. She held back a sob. “Then why did he leave? Maybe…does the spell include a memory wipe? Well, I’m pretty sure it does – you become non-sentient, you don’t even have a memory! Pretty sure that’s how dumb animals work.” She chuckled to herself. But then more somber memories of Poe plagued her.

She looked at the image of the vultures again, watching as the man once known as Bradford regurgitate from his crop for one of his newborns.

Magica sighed, swished her wand, and the image faded. She sat on her bed, looking deeply into the spellbook. Then, a funny thought came into her head. She chuckled, “I wonder if Poe had a brood. Would that make me a great-great-great aunt to some lucky ravens out there? Heh…” Then she closed the book and put it away.