Riding the winds, my feathers crackling with electricity, was an experience that I would never grow tired of. The smell of ozone that existed everywhere once I had flown high enough was invigorating. Sister tried to explain the world, she spoke of strange things like molecules and the higher strata of the atmosphere, but sometimes sister thought too hard. It didn't matter what made the air smell so good, only that it did.

I felt the changes in my body, my muscles, feathers, and blood had tingled and sparked as I had played with the lighting barrage that sister fought against. I had tried to show her that accepting the lighting, would help her instead of hurting her. Each strike stronger than the last had only made me stronger. I had needed to grow, to expand my meridian channels so that I could keep playing.

Sister's tribulation was harder than she expected, and if I hadn't been able to absorb some of the power that was unleashed over the pair-bonds that we had forged, I think she might have died. Sister dying would be a bad thing. I wasn't sure, but I thought if she died, I might too.

I screamed my fear to the world as I remembered how close we had come to failing. My exultation at my ability to soar, to ride the wind, tinged with that fear. The lightning had only tried to help, to make changes in both of us. And in the bond that we had established. Sister had fought those changes, she had been afraid until, at the last moment, when she almost failed, she had finally let the sparks of creation change and shape her.

We were closer than we had been, able to understand and communicate with each other better. We knew that we were more a we than a me and that we had accepted this change easily and whole-heartedly. Sister's first flight was as wondrous to us as ours had been for her. And when my sister called the storm, we danced.

We had resented being forced to land. There was no choice but to return to the real world of practicalities and duties, Sister said, whatever those were. I had been both happy and sad when we decided to split our focus, sister returning to duty, while I continued to exult in the glory of freedom of open skies.

The connection remained as she left me to play, which was a good thing. It allowed Sister to be able to experience the thrill when I managed my first kill, using the lightning that coated my feathers to stun my prey before striking with claw and beak to kill. I had known even before hatching, that the best way for me to kill was to target the neck, to break the fragile bone that could be found in that area and kill what I hunted instantly, and it had proved effective with that first attack.

The Ogygoptynx that I had slain had had no chance to escape. Ogygoptynx, that was a strange name for a bird with too many feathers. It was a creature of the night, and without my enhanced perception would have been perfectly safe nestled out of sight and reach of most hunters.

Sister had gifted me, changes to the way I could see the world. Qi Perception was a gift from her. One of her abilities that I gained when we bonded, and it made us so much more. The changes the lightning added made it even easier to see.

It made it easier for me to find prey, and the increase in intelligence I had gained during our tribulation, made it easier for me to use strategy and tactics to determine the most effective plan to slaughter whatever I targeted. Not that I wasn't already smart.

Sister was always telling me what a smart and beautiful girl I was, but I could tell there was something different now, something more. Or at least I thought that might be the case. It would take months and years of learning. Of merging the new intelligence with my bloodline memories.

My instincts seemed the same. Fly, hunt, and protect Sister. Those instincts had evolved over generations and been memorized, made part of my bloodline to give me the best chance of surviving. The instincts had allowed me to take that first leap that transformed my hopping along the ground into flying, to understand how to control my wings and tail feathers for lift, elevation, and speed.

Those ingrained instincts had me tucking in my claws, flaring my tail feathers at times, and gliding instead of flapping my wings when it was most efficient. Those bloodline memories had taught me about changes in temperature, riding the wind, harnessing the lightning. They had taught me what it meant to be Roc before I knew what any of those strange concepts were.

The gift of intelligence I had gained by harnessing that barrage of lighting while helping to balance her meridian channels had me second-guessing what my body knew to be right. My first fumbling attempts at hunting had been disastrous, as my newly gained intellect would try to over-rule decisions and instincts my body knew to be correct.

I had crashed headfirst into a beehive, swarmed by insects furious at my idiocy when I'd destroyed an entire season of honey had been enough of a lesson. I firmly ignored that new intelligence to let my body follow, to do what my instincts said was needed to hunt. For some things, I decided, it was best not to second guess. It made sense to trust the instincts and bloodline memories that my species had gained over millions of years.

I had those bees to thank for that lesson, despite more than a few painful stings. It made me understand that balance was everything.

Between instinct and intellect. Between her and me. And there still was a me and us. Each of us with our own opinions. Each of us with beliefs of what was important. Sister and I were both important.

Sometimes, Sister was smarter, but there were sometimes, I knew better. There would be compromise or overlap. Areas where we both agreed. We both wanted to keep getting stronger. Protecting what is ours. Growing our territory. Defending it against interlopers. These things were as ingrained in my bloodline memory as they were by her powerful intellect.

We or me. Differences existed, but the commonalities, where we aligned were legion. We were well suited as companions. My infusion of blood giving sister some small access to those memories that had formed over the many millennia.

She would never be Roc. I would never be Elf. But together we were more powerful than we were individually.

It changed how I patrolled. Instead of flight for freedoms or necessity's sake, I allowed that perception I had gained from our bonding to begin cataloging my surroundings. Using the intellect that I had just gained to begin creating a map.

Something tangible and viewable formed and saved in Sister's inner world. I used Sister's knowledge of illusion, of light and water refraction to create a real representation that she could study whenever she found the time. Trees, plants, herbs began to populate that map.

Those things I was familiar with, I tagged with labels. Those that were new to me, I added to a list for her to examine. A database of the new that I was creating for her to organize and evaluate. I was too new to my intelligence to really understand the concept of value. If it wasn't something that I was about to hunt to feed on, nothing had any real value to me. But somehow, I knew Sister might have a need for things that didn't interest me.

I was sure that Sister would find the information I was collecting much more purposeful than I did. I had felt her pain when the bad man, her Elder, had denied her ties to skills that she was proud of, skills that required certain plants to be useful.

It was the reason I had even thought to make this map and list. Maybe the things sister needed were here for the picking. Elder's should be respected, but there came a time when every Roc chick knew it was time to forge your own path.

I hoped to help us spread our wings and forge that new path together.