Storm watched Sister’s younger brother and sister play. She had spent time each day watching them, sometimes even joining them as they laughed and ran and played around the family's field.

Something bad had happened close by, something that had scared Sister. Sister had asked Storm to keep younger brother and sister busy while they dug in a nearby field to get to the bad thing. Storm could smell and taste the decay and death that digging in that field had released, but the digging was done now, the bad smells finally fading.

The taste and scent of that field had a feel to it that Storm had never encountered before. Something bad had happened there. Something dangerous had been hidden. Storm was glad that big Sister had removed the bad.

Playing with younger brother and sister was fun, but it also reminded her of the nest chicks she had never met, those chicks Sister had to leave behind when Sister found her. Storm had felt them before hatching, a small connection that each nestmate shared to grow and live.

The smell of all that death had made Storm realize she might die someday. The ancestral memories she shared with earlier generations of Roc showed that the time might come. That death had come for the ancestors.

That it might be inevitable that it would come for her.

And as Storm watched younger brother and sister play, Storm thought it might be time to build a nest. Maybe she should seek a mate. It would be a good thing to build a colony of Rocs to which she could pass the ancestors’ memories. Chicks who would see the lives of those who had come before and shared their teachings with Storm.

Storm had talked to Sister about building a nest. Sister had said that wanting to have chicks, to pass on my ancestral memories, was normal. She had said it was the circle of life. Her mind, when explaining what she meant, had been mesmerizing, a song of wonder, the passing of skills and responsibilities from old to young.

Sister had also been picturing a monkey holding a small lion cub in the air as the song echoed across the sea of animals. Animals who bowed to acknowledge the small cub as proof that the circle of life was a good thing.

Sister had said that what I felt meant that I had matured, that I was old enough to find a mate, and she would support me. Sister also pointed to Beast Tamer Hall and suggested I talk to Siam and Pluton.

Pluton might serve as a suitable mate, and Siam would be able to create the perfect nest to keep the newborn chicks safe. With their help, Storm wouldn’t be tied to a nest like a Roc without a bond. The duties to protect and keep my young warm and fed would be mainly handled by Beast Tamers, hoping to form a bond with the chicks after they hatched.

Cultivators might attempt the blood bond with a chick while still in the egg, as Sister had done with Storm, but that was good. Sister said any of the chicks would be treasured and that she would love nothing more than to welcome new nieces and nephews into the territory.

The younger brother and sister had decided they had had enough of play, and it was time to fly. They came running to Storm, begging loudly for a ride. Storm liked flying with them and had made time for them each day.

The flights had started off badly. Younger brother and sister had asked Storm to fly, and she had agreed, springing into the air almost as soon as they had found a seat on her back.

The flight itself was tame; Storm restrained herself from any of the aerial acrobatics that she and Sister practiced. Storm’s control of Qi and wind was powerful enough to hold younger brother and sister in position even in those moments of flight when she was diving or upside down.

Storm hadn’t realized she had done anything wrong until she felt a call from Sister, worried that younger brother and sister were missing. Storm had assured Sister that they were safe and with her but had returned anyway.

The disappointment she felt across their bond was enough to remove any joy Storm might have had flying with younger brother and sister.

Sister had explained to her that younger brother and sister were still chicks; neither was strong enough to leave the nest and for her to take them away without letting anyone know had caused worry and fear.

Storm hadn’t understood why anyone would worry at first. Sister was the ruler of this territory, and Storm was tied to Sister by bonds of blood. What power and authority Sister had was communal. It was their territory, their power, and their authority.

The bond that existed between them could never be destroyed.

But Sister explained that all chicks were the responsibility of their parents, and even Sister didn’t have the authority to separate a family group except in dire circumstances. Only if the parent was hurting the chick, couldn’t feed or protect the chick, or if the parent had died and the chick was too young to leave the next would Sister move to protect the chick.

That didn’t seem fair to Storm. Sister had taken her from the nest, taken her from her parents. It was something Storm would have to think about.

Sister said the flights could continue, but only after they had been given permission each time. Sister’s father had been hesitant the first few times. He had watched them take off, smelling of fear and worry. But those emotions had lessened each day when Storm brought younger brother and sister back safely. Until now, when enough time had passed without incident, that permission was granted with a negligent nod of the head or dismissive gesture.

As Storm sailed into the sky, younger brother and sister shrieking with happiness, she thought again of having chicks of her own and decided that, for now, there was no need to hurry. Storm was barely past the chick stage herself. There would be plenty of time to find a mate, build a nest, and lay a clutch of eggs that would grow into the next generation of Rocs.