High above the forest floor a nest of chicks softly warbled in the throes of a collective nap. Within that nest, at least by Charles’ own measure, he’d found a piece of himself that he’d forgotten about. For the first time in years, he could sleep comfortably, safely, without being haunted by lingering anxieties and questions. Without the pain of his body turning against him, without worrying about being alone.

It was a given, also, that he believed that being human was overrated. In fact, thumbs were overrated, especially considering that he was able to manipulate things well enough with his beak and feet.

‘Well, okay, so that part sucks.’ He admitted to himself privately, ‘But so far, so good. I mean, I’m still not a fan of the whole getting fed thing.’

Idly, Charles continued to consider his new life at length, now that he was immobile beneath his siblings. Having some knowledge of the subject, Charles figured his brain must have adapted to its new surroundings by now. Or he was experiencing a mild psychotic break and it didn’t matter anyways. The insane likely weren’t aware of their own insanity, afterall.

Not everything was great, though, chiefest of his concerns was something he had previously considered a boon. He wasn’t positive on the timescale that things should grow, or how large they should grow, but already he suspected that his parents were larger and more powerful than a comparable red-tailed hawk from Earth. More than that, it had been at least two or three weeks since birth, and what had first been rapid growth had stagnated dramatically.

The first point wasn’t necessarily a problem until he wondered what else might have been different in the world. If even the hawks were bigger, what about the really dangerous stuff, like bears?

‘Then again, I can just fly away from that now,’ Charles thought smugly, ‘Ah, yeah, that’s gonna be great.’ He briefly entertained himself with the daydream of flying away from all of his problems before returning to the topic at hand. ‘Alright, but seriously, our growth has plateaued. I haven’t grown at all in like three days. And I’m pretty sure… yep, still the same.’ He turned his gaze towards one of the chicks that had him pinned in the center, Gabby by the looks of her. Her feathers had mostly ceased molting, leaving an adorable mane of fluffy feathers around her neck and along the crest of her wings. Her chest bore what looked almost like a tuxedo of fuzziness that went straight down her belly before wrapping around the base of her legs before they turned into the vaguely-reminiscent-of-velociraptor talons. Similarly, he and the other chicks had either the same pattern or variations of it, and it had been so concretely divided between downy fluff and fully formed feathers - albeit smaller - that he couldn’t possibly attribute it to random chance. However, Charles’ own feathers also had a dark blue color, rich and almost like sapphire, and no matter how he strained his brain he couldn’t think of the reason behind it.

What their stalled growth meant… he had no idea. There was a limit to what he could guess, but he rejected the idea that this was a life-cycle portion that he and the others would be expected to live through for a longer period of time. It just didn’t make sense for animals to be stuck in an infancy cycle for very long, not without some system to protect them. Chimps and humans, for example, had tribes that formed around children to give them plenty of time to develop. Elephants, too, formed extended families and protected their young during an especially long infancy term, but birds usually didn’t from what he recalled. Birds were akin to reptiles in that they had very rapid growth sequences, they shouldn’t have suspended growth like what Charles witnessed.

Yet they were.

‘Ah, feather it, I’ll worry about this later.’ He huffed, resorting to the age-old strategy of shelving a potential problem for later. He settled in once more, looking around the dimly lit forest around him, noting that there must have been some cloud cover overhead. During these several days, he’d seen no real sign of major predators, but neither had he happened to see much in the way of any kind of terrestrial life. Bugs, certainly, but nothing larger than that, and as much as he’d been looking over the edge with his magnificent vision, he’d have liked to think that he would have seen any such creatures.

Such thoughts gradually lagged into the background as he let himself slip further into catatonia, ready to catch another midday nap with the family. Perhaps by the time they awoke, Mom and Dad would be here an-

‘The hell is that sound?’ Charles felt his heart rate pickup, something in the back of his mind ringing alarm bells. His human side and newly found animal instincts hollered at him, his ears now fully alert for whatever subconscious tone had alerted him. The siblings stirred slightly around him, feeling the change in his posture as he went stiff and rose up in the midst of the pile.

‘Ah, pecking hell…’ Charles listened more, hearing the rustling from on the branch connecting the nest to the tree. Obscured as it was by leaves, Charles couldn’t see what it was that moved there. For a split second, he sorted through his mind for the possibilities of what it might be, whilst also cursing himself for even remotely thinking of other creatures that might live in the area.

Instantly he filed out any possibility that it was a squirrel or similar critter. Besides the smell of hawk being strong in the area, he would have been able to hear their individual steps at least. This was a continuous sound, one that he regretted was the biggest clue to what it was.

‘No, feathering, pecking-please don’t be what I think it is,’ Charles felt his heart hammer in his chest as he looked to his siblings, Gabby, Owl, Yak, Pecky, and Talon, who now were fully roused and listening to the sound as well. They looked at him, and he could just make out as Talon let out a small chirp, a question.

Charles turned to her, looking between his siblings and feeling a rising dread sit in his stomach. The human-turned-hawk’s gaze settled back on the edge of the nest even as he suspected what was coming over the edge, led first by a forked, flicking tongue as black as tar. Behind it, dull, tan scales with a rough, dark brown pattern embellished its angular face and round body. The chicks went deathly silent then, crowding behind Charles.

For him, he was affixed in place by three things as the serpent’s gaze scanned the nest before settling on the batch of tasty chicklings before it. The first was the cold, raw terror that gripped him, especially with the knowledge that any mere chick was not likely a match for this creature. The second thing was the dismay and despair that rapidly was giving way to righteous, indignant anger. He’d gotten a second chance at life, only to run into this damned thing before he could be expected to deal with it. Considering how life had dealt him his cards in his human life, he quickly re-checked some boxes that he’d left in the air - namely that life was still a bitch.

Thirdly, the soft warble of fear behind him from his dear brothers and sisters, his new chance at a family, filled his spine with a resolute kind of acceptance. Charles risked turning his attention from the snake slightly, looking beside him at the quivering chicks. The very same instinct that warned him obviously existed in his siblings as well. He knew that, realistically, most situations like this would probably only be resolved after the snake ate its fill, whatever birds remained being the lucky ones.

Before he knew it, he was repeating what had been said to him so many times in his past life, a lie that dripped hope to him in his darkest hour, until it hadn’t been a lie anymore. Not until the very end. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re all going to be fine.” Charles spoke softly and warmly, the chick's eyes falling on him in shock.

He would save them, or he’d be the first to die today. That was the decision that he realized that he made as he looked at them. Charles turned back to the snake, only now realizing that it seemed to have much more recognizable features than he thought he should see on a snake. It looked at him with what felt like contempt, perhaps even some level of haughtiness as its coiling length began to draw onto the edge of the nest, coiling in one large mass as it rose imperiously over them.

It had lived several years, hunted many times, successfully. This wasn’t the first time it had raided a bird’s nest, but it would be a first for a red-hawk. Normally, she was on the menu for them. But today? Today the snake marveled at its luck in stumbling upon the nest of its predator, and at the irony that it might turn its erstwhile hunter into the hunted. She knew well that birds were generally weak at their early stages of life, which just meant that it had a bonafide feast set out in front of it.

Except it had never hunted red hawk chicks, nor had it ever experienced a certain human’s willingness to fight against the inevitable.

Thus, when Charles let out a piercing battle cry - startling even to the snake - it hadn’t enough time to brace itself before the chick rammed into its scales. The snake let out a hiss, reaching out with its head to try to snag onto the edge of the branch as the sudden strike displaced its balance. It might have worked had the chick not hooked into its neck with sharp talons and a vicious stab with the sharp, curved raptors beak pulling it away.

“Brother!” Charles’ heard the word with perfect clarity as everything seemed to slow to a crawl, gravity already seizing on the now free-falling snake and bird. Warmth suffused his heart in spite of what was happening, glad to have finally truly heard his siblings’ voice. He was glad to have finally heard the words of someone else since becoming a bird, and it brought a mixture of happiness and pride to him that he’d heard it from one of his siblings.

‘Now, phase two, survive if possible.’ Charles doubled down on his focus as the moment of serenity passed. He was remarkably calm, and felt almost content about his choice in spite of the knowledge that he was falling from a very high tree.

At least up until he and the snake smashed into the side of the tree on the way down.

‘Ah, crap.’ A flash of cognitive thought managed to squeeze through the pain that lanced through his wing, now likely broken. He could barely track anything going on, but dully realized that he and the snake had at some point detached from one another. Charles’ own shrill cry filled his ears even as the ground rushed to greet him.

Charles didn’t remember the moment of impact, but he did awaken what must have been moments after it, having landed directly on his wounded wing. For several seconds Charles weakly struggled against the creeping blackness tinged by agony that surged at the edges of his consciousness.

‘Don’t pass out. What’s the damage?’ Charles forced his mind to concentrate with monumental will, remembering all the times he’d dealt with constant and consuming pain all throughout his battle against his own traitorous body when he was human. Resourcing that pain, Charles felt a semblance of control return to him, ‘And where’s that pecking snake?’

He grit his beak tightly as he managed to put his feet under him, righting his body while swaying as he rose. His left wing hung limply, grinding sensations in the socket telling him that he’d either broken or dislocated something. Such was usually a death sentence for birds, he remembered grimly, but packed that detail away for later for if he survived this conflict. With effort borne of iron will and fear, Charles managed to stand to his full height. He was looking around the forest floor lush with greenery and winding root systems, moss covered stone and other vegetation having blessedly cushioned his impact.

Briefly he entertained the idea of fleeing outright, but managed to push the thought away. He was terrified, but the knowledge that this snake would just follow him, or worse go back to the nest, managed to stave off such thoughts. Wide open eyes surveyed the area around him, searching for any sign of where the snake had landed. If he was lucky, perhaps the snake had perished in the fall.

After another few moments, he noticed that part of the snake stuck out from within a bush, unblinking eyes and body only evident to be alive by the fact that he could see it breathing.

Charles’ beak grit so tightly that he wondered if it might break, and silently marshalled his will, ‘He who strikes first, strikes last, right?’

The red hawk chick took one brave step and- ‘Holy fucking shit!’

And immediately seized up as his left wing bones shifted, broken pieces grinding against other pieces in utter, mind-whiting agony. Charles felt something akin to a whimper come from his throat as his body suddenly refused to move forward. It was true that he’d dealt with pain more than most, but that didn’t mean he was somehow immune to it. Even his human thoughts had managed to break through the subliminal language replacement that his bird half seemed to enjoy.

‘Oh, pecking hell, oh no, no, no, no-’ His thoughts reverberated in his mind before he managed to regain control. Every fiber of his being wanted him to stay put, but he could see the snake stir, certainly not dead, and likely soon to be mobile itself. Charles knew that his window of opportunity was running out, and knew that fighting the snake on even footing would be all but impossible. Charles took a deep, unsteady breath, filling his lungs as he did his best not to simply shut out the pain, but to embrace it as much as he could.

The resulting agony mixed with what was a decidedly more shrill battlecry, the red hawk chick managing to sprint, an unsteady, imbalanced rush for the snake’s head. For a second, the snake didn’t register what was happening, the pain of talons cutting between scales and drawing blood just a backdrop to the several broken ribs it bore and the severe pain that wracked its entire body.

However, that changed the instant that Charles’ beak found its eye.

The moment Charles felt the membrane beneath his sharp beak break - whilst ignoring the disgusting way that felt - the snake transformed from immobile into a roiling mass of wrathful rage. He shrieked as the folds of the snake thrashed against his wing, and continued to do so as the snake’s head twisted upwards and bit into the same broken wing. Narrow, sharp teeth sank into his flesh before it started twisting, folds of muscular snake-flesh getting ready to wrap around and compress Charles. His brain blanked out almost entirely at that point, running completely on the instinctual response of both bird and man.

Every nicety, every concept of fair fighting had gone out the window, but at that very moment Charles realized that his subconscious mind would never be the same. Nothing mattered more than living, and if that meant being a savage and remorseless fighter, then that’s exactly what he would do. It was with this instinct that he managed to twist his own body, even amidst the rapidly tightening folds of the snake's body. The pain only spurred him on, rather than dulled his instincts, and the best possible target he could have asked for presented itself.

He reared his head back to strike, aiming directly at the remaining undamaged eye of the snake and-

The snake once more unfolded with enough force to throw the young hawk in a low arc through the air. This time, in spite of the pain, he didn’t black out, and managed to right himself somewhat with his good wing before landing on his feet and rolling backwards. More grinding pain lanced at his senses, but somehow he managed to come back to his feet quickly.

Once more he forced himself to focus on the snake, its baleful one-eyed glare meeting his own frenzied gaze. Charles’ knew that he wasn’t going to get another lucky shot off the moment he saw the defensive posture of the serpent. The snake would not underestimate the chick again.

‘Got it in your feather-brain now, eh?’ In spite of everything, a smugness filled him, marred only by the fact that things weren’t going to go well from here.

Quickly he took the brief respite to analyze the situation, even as dulled as his awareness was due to the damage he’d taken. Firstly, there was no way in hell that he was going to be fighting this snake on even ground. He’d lose flat-out, though he did notice that the snake certainly looked quite beat up, too. That led to the second point, both of them were wounded, and while Charles felt his damage was less than the snake's own, he doubted that he could outlast it by simply avoiding it. Unless it was bleeding internally, but he couldn’t bank on that possibility.

Thirdly, if he lost before the snake was dead, this was potentially all for nothing. High overhead, he could hear the echoing of his siblings, but he didn’t dare risk looking up. This was a deathmatch now, and he knew that if he gave it the chance, the snake would tear into him and, judging by the very not-animal hatred in its remaining eye, he doubted the reptile would be content with only killing Charles. That left only one option, really.

“Alright, this way scaly,” the hawk released a shrill cry, rising to its full height.

The snake braced, stiffening in spite of the pain it felt from that. Soon, the foolish bird would charge into it, and this fight would be over. It had been the closest fight for its life that the snake had ever felt, but it refused to allow this to go unanswered. Calling upon all of its strength, the snake rose and prepared to strike at the-

Then it stuttered to a stop, realizing that the bird had promptly turned around and sprinted away from the snake.

Outrage welled within the reptile's cold mind, and were it merely a predator, it would have perhaps decided to let the chick go. But, this creature, this avian was nothing short of its nemesis, as they were to all reptile kind. It would die, and the nest above would follow. Cruelty wasn’t normally a part of the snake’s repertoire, but it would make an exception for the simple fact that these birds were clearly more dangerous than it had given them credit for.

Best to nip the problem early.

But first, that chickling needed to die.

Charles didn’t bother looking backwards, he could hear the snake follow after him even without the bellowing hiss that resounded from its mouth. He didn’t actually think that animals could get so pissed at each other like this. His heart hammered in his chest, and for a moment he wondered what could possibly possess a predator to have continued to fight even to this point. But, then, he’d already begun to suspect the rules of this world to be slightly different in some ways than what he was used to.

Those thoughts quickly fled as he continued to jostle his wing. Already he could feel the swelling in the wing, the blood seeping from the bite the snake had given him. It was lucky that the snake wasn’t venomous, at least at first glance, but that wouldn’t help him for long. Charles bounded over leaf covered rocks, moss growing beneath the thin covering upon the forest floor. Moisture was abundant down here, and the overgrowth helped to keep the chick’s form obscured.

The same was true of the snake, though, and Charles didn’t like how hard it was to track the sounds the snake made. He hoped that he could outrun it, knowing that snakes weren’t exactly the most mobile creatures back on earth.

‘Well, some of them. Constrictors tended to be slower, right?’ He thought with chagrin, hoping that to be the case. Desperately, he searched for anywhere he could go where he might stand a better chance against the snake. Maybe some high ground where it couldn’t easily bring all of its bulk to bear at once? Maybe he could find another cliff, albeit he doubted that would work a second time.

Just then, he felt a strange tingle up his spine, and his instincts screamed at him to dodge. Charles trusted them, and threw himself to the right, doing his best not to land on his broken wing. Even in spite of that, the snake that suddenly surged forward like a meaty freight train clipped his wing, a massive body projecting forward more like a thrown spear than a living thing.

‘What the feathering peck!?’ Charles' mind wailed in terror, the snake smacking into the underbrush several feet ahead of him and even tearing through bushes and digging a groove in the earth. The tingle he felt faded momentarily, and Charles already found himself turning in another direction away from the snake, making a mad dash over rocks as he went. ‘What was that? How the hell did it throw its entire damned body?’ Charles’ screamed silently, heart hammering faster than anything he’d ever felt as a human. Any thought of an equal playing field fled the moment he’d seen that, no longer sure what he was dealing with in the slightest.

He ran for several more minutes, crossing a wide but shallow stream, feeling as though his heart was about to explode. Nothing looked advantageous enough to even remotely attempt to turn and fight, and fearfully Charles risked looking over his shoulder.

Sure enough, the snake crossed the stream after him, faster crossing the water than it even was crossing regular ground. Despair nipped at him as he ran forward, but already his feet had difficulty moving. It was no surprise, really, he was a flight-based bird, and young at that. In fact, a calculating, distant part of Charles’ mind actually felt quite proud that he’d managed to run this long or fast.

But, he knew this was as far as he could go, exhaustion weighed him down, the pain’s war with adrenaline gradually came to a head, pain winning out such that not even Charles’ newfound instincts could fight it off. Staggering forward, he stopped in front of a tree, its many reaching roots lifting the base of the thing off of the forest floor. A hollowed portion lay beneath, along with an abundance of broken branches around. Idly, he wondered if there was perhaps something else living there, but he couldn’t tell, nor did he care.

Instead, he looked at the scene and a flash of inspiration born of desperation rang through his head. The protruding sticks, broken branches, some of which were quite long and narrow, formed something of an arena for his last stand.

Maybe, just maybe, he could work with this.

He turned, cringing at the approaching snake, fury and festering hatred deep within its singular gaze. Something else lurked there, too, a certain promise of a violent death that shook him down to his core. It stopped 3 meters away, a huge distance to strike from.

Blood pumped from his many small injuries, the aching throb matching his machine-gun heartbeat serving now to help him focus with all of his might on his enemy. The young hawk did his best to appear as threatening as possible, somehow managing to stand up straight and fluff himself out. The snake was clearly not daunted, but didn’t approach closer as of yet. Ironically, Charles knew that if it had called his bluff outright, he’d probably stand no chance.

But already the snake had underestimated him, and no more.

‘Alright, condition one met. Now, let's see you commit fully,’ Charles’ erratic, terror filled breaths encouraged the snake, and indeed didn’t need to be feigned in the slightest. He managed to keep from looking behind him, knowing he couldn’t risk exposing his plan. There still wasn’t any way to know exactly how smart the animals here were, so he’d have to err on the side of caution for now.

Finally, the snake tensed, and Charles felt the same tingle race up his spine, now realizing it almost felt like a shot of morphine, heat coupled with that odd tingle. Whatever that was, Charles’ instincts once more screamed for him to dodge.

The snake surged forward, moving at a speed frankly absurd, as though it’d just been punted towards him. The scene played out in near slow motion as Charles threw himself to the ground, just narrowly avoiding the wide-open gaping maw of the snake. A black mouth full of gleaming white teeth reached, but already Charles was behind its still airborne body.

There wasn’t any time for the snake to adjust, then, when it realized the collection of broken branches with sharp edges protruding everywhere. Charles already was rising, forcing himself to move even as the snake smashed into the wood. Much to his panic, the snake hadn’t managed to impale its head, something he’d hoped against the odds would have happened.

But, that didn’t mean it wasn’t heavily injured elsewhere. Several parts of its body now bore grievous injuries, blood seeping out around fragments of splintered wood. The snake hissed loudly, a noise that Charles did his best to put out of his mind. Perhaps it would bleed to death on its own, but he couldn’t know that for sure.

Charles slammed wholly into its back, pressing it further into the wood before it could try to pry itself free. He raked with his talons, tore with his beak, and dodged the flailing strike from the snake's jaws. The young hawk bounded backwards, dodging another attempt to bite into him before he bounded back onto it.

This was it, Charles knew he didn’t have the energy to spare to so much as dodge again. He needed to kill this thing, now, or he’d be over.

He bit into it, digging deeply into a wound, feeling the beat of something near his face. Just then, he felt the bite of sharp teeth enter his shoulder, trying desperately to wrench him free.

Charles would not be denied now, though, and hooked deeply with his claws even as the snake folded as much of its body as it could around him, seeking to crush the bird to death. They raced to see who could kill the other faster, and Charles didn’t stop shredding through whatever he could with his beak. He pushed deeper, though, fitting nearly his entire head into the wound he made, and grasped onto something that beat in his beaked grasp.

And he tore the thing to pieces.

Nearly instantly, the snake began thrashing, but Charles didn’t dare let up. He bit again, and again, forced to swallow whatever he was attacking as he went. His consciousness waned with exhaustion, and he barely found the space to be able to breathe.

And suddenly he felt the pressure reduce, the weight of the dead snake resting upon him. A warm, vibrant rush of something surged through his body, up and down his spine. It was soothing, and for that brief instant all the pain faded away, and the realization that he’d triumphed surged through his mind.

The last thing that went through his mind before consciousness failed him was the knowledge that he’d done it. He’d saved his family this time.

‘Sorry, Alterra…’ He breathed out as everything dimmed, ‘Looks like I wasn’t much of a champion… But, I saved them, this time…’

Contentedness welled in him as everything went dark.