FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

My heart pounded as I read through the contract on the table in front of me. Page after page of legalese went by, warning about risks and responsibilities of the parties involved, yada yada yada. I finally reached the last page, picked up the pen, and stared at the line for my signature. I was literally on the verge of signing my life away, or at least my humanity.

"Do you have any questions?" My legal representative asked when he saw me hesitate.

I thought back to my visit with the staff at the sanctuary I'd be living at, and to the huge aviary that had been under construction there. The next forty or so years of my life would definitely be taken care of, so what was stopping me? With one signature, years of dysphoria would finally be rectified. With a deep breath, I signed my humanity away.

The lab's representative handed over another packet of papers. "These are the forms for the breeding program in case you're interested. Since you'll be a member of an endangered species, you have the option of volunteering to help bolster the population if a suitable mate is found. This is completely optional even after signing and we won't force you to do anything if you don't want to."

I took a deep breath and scribbled my name, and with that, my fate was sealed.

A woman in a lab coat next to the lab's representative flicked open the screen to her tablet and began explaining the process in a calm, professional tone. "First you will be put under general anesthesia and once we're confident you're stable, you'll be transferred to the chamber for the procedure. Given the vast difference between a mammal brain and the avian brain you'll end up with, we can't guarantee you'll wake up without cognition and memory loss, but given the intelligence of your chosen species, you should be able to make up for it rather quickly.

Once your new form is complete, you'll be taken to a recovery room where you'll have an identification microchip implanted and a leg band attached before you wake up. We'll also have an avian veterinary specialist examine you at that time to make sure you are safe and healthy. After you wake and become accustomed to your new body, your mental capacity will be tested and if possible we'll work on communication, since you'll no longer be able to speak."

My mind began playing back the videos I had seen of early subjects going through the mental testing and failing to show any sign of sapience left. I knew later subjects had fared far better, but those were all mammalian forms. Like she had said, I was going to be their first bird, so I was venturing into completely unknown waters. Then again, if something did go wrong, would I even know what I lost? I could still live a happy life with a normal bird mind.

"It says here you've selected the Bearded Vulture, Gypaetus barbatus as your new species? Interesting choice." The woman held up the tablet showing a picture of a black, white and rusty red bird. "This is your donor. We've based your modified genetic code off of hers, so you two will essentially be sisters." She looked up at me again, a little anxiety entering her voice. "You never did give us a name you want to be called when this is finished."

"I know. I don't care about a name. I wouldn't have one living in the wild, would I?"

"Oh, well uh, Okay. If that becomes an issue we can always take care of it later. Well if you don't have any questions or reservations, I believe they're ready for you."

I was escorted down a short hallway into a small, cheerfully decorated room where I was given a hospital gown and told to undress. In a few short hours, I'd never have to deal with clothing again, so I took a few minutes to neatly fold my clothes and place them on a little table next to a hospital bed. Finally I took off the little pewter delta-theta pendant I wore everyday and carefully placed it atop the clothes. When the woman in the lab coat returned with the Anesthesiologist, I sat back on the bed and tried to relax. I was given a set of headphones and a little music player to listen to while the drugs took hold, and just before I put the headphones on, the woman stopped me.

"I saw your playlist when I loaded it up," She said with a smirk. "I can't believe you really found that many songs with bones in the title."

"Figured it'd be funny, since well... Bearded vultures love them. I said with a chuckle. "Oh hey. That pendant on my clothes over there. Do you think I'd be able to get that back once I'm done? That is if I'm still capable of having something like that?"

"If you're able to, you'll have it back." She said with a warm smile.

I adjusted my headphones and leaned back on the bed. "I appreciate it. And thank you for making this dream a reality."

The pinch of a needle in my left arm made me wince and I thought I heard the woman reply, "Don't thank me yet," just as the music began to play. For the first time, I began to have reservations about my choice.

Falling... falling... falling...

I felt as if I had been falling for an eternity when suddenly I jolted awake, throwing my wings out with surprise.

My... wings...

A great expanse of black feathers speckled with white stretched out to either side of me, attaching to my body at the shoulder. I blinked my stinging eyes repeatedly, trying to moisten them so I could get a better look at my feathery appendages. Struggling to my feet, still trying to focus, I felt myself wobble and gave a few flaps to stabilize myself. Every joint ached and my body felt far less flexible than I remembered it being for some reason. Looking down I saw my chest was covered in thick white feathers interspersed with strange purple and blue hues, extending all the way down to my gray scaled avian feet. On the left ankle, a little metal band covered in some kind of symbols I didn't recognize sparkled in the room's artificial lighting. Everywhere I looked, colors were so incredibly vivid, especially blues and purples which seemed especially vibrant.

Fear slowly took hold as I looked around and realized I was in some kind of human structure, but my rational mind quickly pushed it down. Of course I was in a human nest, I had grown up with humans. Some time passed before a female human with an oversized white covering and long crest...what was it called? Hair? Stepped through an entrance and looked down at me. Her face seemed familiar and I felt I had trusted her before, like she was some sort of helper or caretaker.

"Welcome back." She said,

I tilted my head left, then right and gave a soft screech and immediately slammed my beak shut. My voice sounded so alien, but so familiar at the same time, and I kind of liked it.

"Can you understand what I'm saying?" The woman asked as she stooped in front of me to get to my level.

My stomach sank as I tried to respond but I couldn't remember just how to communicate back with her. I tilted my head again and ruffled my feathers, giving a little confused trill.

"Hmm, I see you have forgotten some things. Just nod your head for yes," She moved her head up and down several times. "For no, you shake your head" Then she rotated her head from side to side.

I mimicked the motions and she bared her teeth, making me jerk back with a surprised squawk. My feathers flattened tight against my body and I lowered my head, not sure what I had done to earn such a threatening reaction.

"Oh no! Did you forget what a smile means?" She bared her teeth again then spoke. "This is a good sign. It means a human is happy, not mad."

Hesitantly, I moved a little closer, watching her face and taking mental note of the expression she wore. So bared teeth with the corners of her mouth turned upward meant a human was happy... I'd have to remember that.

"Do you remember anything about being human yourself?" She asked.

I paused and really thought hard, trying desperately to find something, but the only memories I could find were jumbled and confusing. Disappointed, I looked up at her and slowly shook my head.

"Do you remember this?" The woman held up a small pendant on a chain. I didn't recognize the symbol on the pendant, but I knew it had been important to me at one time. With an excited screech I nodded my head enthusiastically. She smiled again and carefully adjusted the chain before sliding it over my head, letting the pendant rest against my chest feathers.

"I looked up that symbol a while back when I noticed it popping up repeatedly with our early patients. Until then, I had only heard of Therians in the context of fantasy stories, like shapeshifters and such. I never realized real people were out there who believed they had a nonhuman spirit, or just how many of you there were. It feels good to know this project is actually helping some people."

The woman walked over to one of the walls where a large curtain was hung and I followed. She slowly pulled the curtain back to reveal a mirror, and directly in the center I saw myself. My heart leapt and I let out a sharp squawk of surprise before slowly approaching my reflection. I turned sideways, turned my back and looked over my shoulder, then faced it and spread my wings. Every angle I could think of, I tried it, just to soak up the pure euphoria of seeing myself as I should be. My eyes began to burn and I felt a tear run down my facial feathers and I was overwhelmed with a sudden urge to embrace the human in one of their affectionate grapples, which I couldn't remember the name of.

"Are you... Crying?" The woman asked, looking at my watery eyes.

I quickly shook my head, then paused and switched to nodding. She knelt in front of me spreading her arms and I immediately knew the gesture and moved in, spreading my wings for a hug.

Hug! That was the word I had been looking for! The sensation felt strange, being pulled close to a creature which deep down inside I knew could pose a very real threat to me. My mind fought against multiple instincts triggered by the gentle embrace and I found myself snuggling in closer

"I already know I'm going to miss you when you head off to the sanctuary," She sighed, finally letting me go and giving the top of my head a scratch. I gently preened the fabric that covered her arm, and though it was a purely symbolic gesture, I could tell she appreciated it. With a smile, she looked down and gave my beak a rub, which felt surprisingly good. "Assuming

we don't see any sudden cognitive decline like some of the previous subjects, you're bound to be our biggest success yet."

I looked up and tilted my head, a gesture I knew expressed curiosity. My memory was so full of holes that I couldn't be a complete success.

"Only two of the previous seven had expressed any memory of their former self. Most ended up the equivalent of moderately more intelligent versions of their species. You however express both full sapience and near human intelligence."

I narrowed my eyes and fluffed up my feathers, opening my wings slightly to look threatening and she laughed. "Okay, okay, near adult intelligence! We're going to have to reteach you some things you lost, but you seem to be catching on quickly. We should have your communication figured out by the time your new home is done. Do you remember how to read?"

Of course I know how to read. I thought, until the woman held up an illuminated rectangle with several lines of black glyphs on its surface. My beak fell open with shock at the realization that a skill I had once taken for granted was missing. I scanned the glyphs, or letters I think they were called, over and over again, picking out patterns in the arrangement and groupings, but anything more seemed just a feather's width beyond my mind's reach. I felt my heart begin to pound and I backed away, my mind starting to grow foggy as a deep feral panic threatened to spill over into my sapient thoughts. How much of me had I actually lost? I needed to fly, to get away from this place and the scary thoughts it was inducing. I needed some place high and remote, far away from people and their expectations, where I could just live the life I was meant to. Looking around frantically, I began searching for an exit, my wings slowly spreading in preparation for my escape.

"Easy. Take it easy, it's okay." A hand gently touched my head and I nearly bit it before I realized it was my friend trying to comfort me. My chest felt tight and I ducked my head in shame.

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean it. I bet those new instincts are hard to keep track of.

Don't worry if you've forgotten how to read. Your entire brain was just completely rebuilt in a whole new form, so there are bound to be countless neurons that haven't fully made their connections yet. Nothing is perfect. Chances are, you just need to jog your memory. We're here to work with you if you want it. Now, I'm about to take a break for lunch. Would you like to join me?"

I nodded and she gestured to her arm. " I don't have a gauntlet so you'll have to be very careful with your talons, but I'm pretty sure I can carry you, since you don't seem to be very graceful on the ground yet."

Looking up, I considered her arm, then looked down at myself. Hoping she would understand I was referring to my size, I motioned with a wing from my head down to my talons, then spread my wings wide.

"I know you're big. Nearly four feet tall, with a wingspan close to ten, but you only weigh sixteen pounds. That's less than the bags of birdseed I buy.

I lifted a foot, opening and closing my talons then looked up with a curious head tilt before shaking my head.

"I have faith in you, but suit yourself. The lab is too small to fly in, so you'll be waddling along with me to the lunch room."

Puffing out my chest, I stood up to my full height, stretching out my long fluffy legs and began walking toward the door, stopping after a few steps to look back at her expectantly. I was really beginning to miss being able to talk.

As we walked, I felt myself growing more and more confident on my new legs and soon I felt my gait smoothing out and developing a certain grace. In the lunch room I found a small table set off to the side with a plate full of what appeared to be meat and bones stacked on it. An involuntary squeak of excitement escaped my beak and I looked up at my caretaker, meeting her eyes.

"Yes, that's for you." She confirmed.

I wanted so desperately to rush over and try my first bone, but I waited patiently as the young woman retrieved a glass bowl from a silver cabinet against the wall and put it into a little box with a transparent front door. She pressed a few glyphs next to the box's door and it chirped then began to hum. I couldn't help but watch in fascination as the bowl rotated inside the humming box. After some time, it chirped again and she removed her bowl, walking over to the table next to the one set for me. A strangely familiar savory scent crossed my nares and I inhaled deeply, trying to identify it. When she finally sat down, my curiosity got the best of me and I gave a few flaps of my huge wings to get onto the table where I could see the source of the rich smells. In the bowl was a strange rectangular thing made up of several yellow layers with white and brown separating them and a bright red sauce smeared across the top.

"This is lasagna. I really doubt a bearded vulture is going to enjoy this."

My head tilted as I breathed in deeply again, trying so hard to remember why that smell was so vivid in my shattered memory. Had I liked lasagna as a human? It had to have meant something to me before I changed, but what?

The woman cut off a small chunk and stabbed her metal utensil through it, then held it out in front of me. "I can't believe I'm doing this. Have a bite." Carefully, I closed my beak over the chunk of pasta and slid it off the fork, then rolled it around inside my beak with my tongue trying to savor the taste in hopes it'd stir up some memories. The texture and smell reminded me of a food I had absolutely loved, but this one tasted nothing like it. I remembered spices and loads of rich flavors all mixed up into one delicious meal, but this tasted so much sweeter and a lot of the spices I had loved just seemed completely different, despite smelling the same.

Swallowing, I slowly shook my head and jumped over to my table to check out my own meal. "Not what you remembered, is it?" I turned and looked back, shaking my head. "Comes with becoming a bird. On the bright side, you can eat the hottest peppers known to man now and not be bothered one bit since you're immune to capsaicin."

Why hadn't I thought of things like that before signing up to be changed? I had once loved spices in my food, but now I couldn't even remember exactly what they tasted like.

Disappointed, I looked down at the plate on my table and felt an instinctual thrill after the disappointing snack. Feeling a little nervous, I plucked one of the chunks of bone from the plate with my beak, tipped my head back and began working it down my throat. I didn't gag or choke like I half expected I would, in fact it actually felt kind of good. The sensation was strange but also satisfying as I felt the chunk slip down my esophagus, past my crop and down toward my stomach. I ruffled my feathers up and gave a trill before grabbing a second and swallowing it down. The meal wasn't exactly flavorful, maybe a little salty and metallic, but something inside me seemed to absolutely relish in the fact that I was doing exactly what nature had intended for me to do. With a mostly full belly, I took a few chunks of the meat that had also been provided and filled my crop before perching contentedly on a chair and half-dozing while my caretaker ate.

Once again I was falling.

With a surprised squeak and a jerk of my wings, I woke. The human woman had finished her lunch and was sitting back in her chair, poking at her tablet with a little smirk on her face. "You talk in your sleep."

My eyes went wide and I perked up. I talked? I didn't think I was capable of human sounds anymore. If I could use sound to communicate, it would make my life...

"Don't look so surprised. You didn't speak English, but you did make the most adorable squeaks and trills."

My excitement quickly faded and I settled back down. I was happy with my voice, it reminded me of an eagle's and adding human sounds would just make it harder to let go of the past. As much as I wanted to communicate with my human friend, maybe I should just let her learn my language instead of the other way around. Humans had a wide range of sounds, while my own vocal range felt much more limited.

The woman stood up and walked over to me. "I think we should get you back to your room so you can make yourself more comfortable. There's a nice box you can use for a nest with an assortment of nesting materials and a bathing area, complete with mineral enriched soil, which I'm sure you'll know how to use. The engineers even rigged up a place for you to relieve yourself that's self cleaning, since your Avian digestive system could be messy. I'm sure they'll be thrilled that you're intelligent enough to actually use it."

If I could frown, I definitely would have been doing it when she reminded me of my digestive system. Yet another one of those messy details I hadn't wanted to interfere with the joy of finally being me. I hopped down from my seat and stretched, shook out my wings and smoothed my feathers down, then followed, DEFINITELY not waddling like she had implied earlier in the day.

Walking was annoying and slow, but I could tell right away that there was no way my huge wingspan would let me maneuver the narrow halls of the lab. I wasn't a small bird by any means, standing nearly as tall as my caretaker's hips even with my hunched posture, but walking around the other humans in the halls left me feeling quite little and vulnerable to being tripped over. Finally reaching my avian apartment was a relief.

The room was actually quite a bit larger than I had expected. Until now, most of the rooms I had been in aside from where we had lunch had been barely wide enough for me to fully open my wings, but this one was large enough that I could probably manage a one or two second glide before smashing into a wall. I darted past my caretaker's legs and gave a few beats of my wings, just enough to get my talons off the ground before touching back down. That little bit of flight sent such an intense rush of endorphins through my body that I couldn't help but shiver and fluff up. I was meant for that, honed over millions of years of evolution to be lightweight and aerodynamic, perfect for flying.

Thoughts of evolution and all the tiny steps theropods had taken to go from dinosaur to bird flooded into my mind and I stopped in my tracks. That's right! Birds are theropods. I had literally become a dinosaur, or at least the distant descendant of a dinosaur! At that moment I really wished I could voice this realization to my human friend. I settled for a good loud scream and stomping as dramatically as a roughly three foot tall bird of prey could, over to my glorified birdbath.

Next to my bathing area was a shallow wooden box with a pile of dusty red tinted soil, which seemed to call out to my very soul. After a quick splash in the water, I shook off and flopped into the dirt, wiggling to get my breast nice and deep in the rusty soil. I fluttered and even rolled, not caring how silly I looked, just having fun while hopefully staining my feathers the beautiful red I craved so much. Dirt rained down from my plumage as I finally stood up and shook to dislodge what I could, then I got comfortable and began preening.

The woman in the lab coat watched from a folding chair and tapped at her tablet as I went about my new favorite ritual: preening until every feather was absolutely perfect.

To my disappointment, the first dirt bath only achieved a slightly pinkish brown tint to my formerly snow white chest and head, so I dove back into the dirt, working more and more red into my feathers with each repetition.

Around my fourth round of dirt bathing, another human entered the room and whispered something into my caretaker's ear. She cursed under her breath and followed him out, returning toward the end of my preening session. The woman sat down, looking incredibly unhappy as she poked at her tablet. I walked over, proudly sporting my freshly dyed red feathers and rested my beak in her lap. She reached down, gently scratched my head feathers and I trilled happily in response.

"Thanks for trying to cheer me up. Do you remember anything about the controversy surrounding our first transformations? The religious groups and right-wing conspiracy nuts accusing us of playing god and destroying people's souls?" When I nodded, she continued. "Well somehow they found out about you and they're outside protesting again. Why can't they just let us help people? You seem so happy now."

I gave her a nudge with my beak, then nibbled at her pant leg, pretending to preen her, hoping the affection would help. Though it was taking time to get used to my body and to get my mind back together, I really was happy and I owed it all to this woman and her colleagues.

"I'm really impressed with the progress you've made in just one day. If this is any clue, I think we may have the transformation process finally ironed out. Now we need to work on giving you guys the human lifespans you lost when you turned. I just hate knowing our first successful subjects are already starting to suffer the effects of canine old age less than a decade after changing. You're lucky lammergeiers live around forty years."

It didn't take much math to figure out that even with my longer avian lifespan, I had still traded a decade of my life for this. Forty years seemed like a long time, but as a human I had been pretty close to that age myself and it had felt like just a blink of an eye. I looked up at my caretaker's face and guessed her to be in her early thirties, so there was a good chance she'd still outlive me. None of that really mattered though, because I'd rather spend forty years in a body that felt right than a hundred in one that didn't.

"Oh!" She suddenly exclaimed, startling me with the outburst. "I have a tablet for you to play with. Hopefully it can jog more memories and give you a better way to communicate with me. I'll load it up with some reading exercises too." I wanted to protest, but she jumped up and left the room so quickly I didn't have a chance to figure out exactly how to express myself. The truth was, I really had no interest in relearning all of my human skills like she expected me to.

Sure, communication would be nice to have, but I really just wanted to live a simple life and just be a bird. I couldn't wait to just relax in my nice new aviary at the sanctuary and look pretty for tourists and maybe gross a few kids out once in a while by gulping down a big bone in front of everyone.

My caretaker quickly returned with a tablet clad in a thick lime green case and placed it in front of me. "Which talon will you be using to type and scroll with?" I raised my left foot and pointed a talon, which she examined. She carefully trimmed a small curved rubber object with a pair of scissors, then slid it over my talon. "It's a capacitive talon sheath. Our project head uses them all the time. They were invented a few years back shortly after that gryphon incident that was all over the news. I'm sure she won't mind that we snagged a few."

I cocked my head left, then right, genuinely curious about their project lead's role in a rash of gryphon transformations across the state. Memories crept up of the news being peppered for several weeks with conflicting reports of the mythical creatures popping up in cities and small towns, with no actual explanation. Then without explanation, the news about them mostly stopped. Occasionally a gryphon would show up in some fluff piece on a slow news day doing something good for their community as they tried to fit in, but as a whole they seemed mostly forgotten.

With a deep sigh, I balanced on my right foot and tried the tablet with my left. The words mostly made no sense to me, but with some explanation I was able to memorize the icons for the apps I'd be using. As much as I didn't want to do any of this, I knew I had to rebuild my communication skills to get my questions answered.

It worried me that the more I was forced to think and reason, the more of my human mind seemed to be returning and pushing back the feral thoughts I craved. Deep down, some part of me raged against that and for a moment I felt myself wishing the transformation had taken my sapience. Things would have been so much simpler in that scenario. I smacked at an app icon that looked like a yellow notepad and without thinking, opened a new note and scrawled my talon across the keyboard. Words began to appear on the screen as I angrily drew a line from letter to letter, raging at my human self, not letting me just relax and be what I was supposed to be.

"Don't want to learn to read again. Don't want to give human me any more room. I just want to be myself, not human, just bird."

My caretaker looked at the screen then back up at me. "See? Just needed the right inspiration."

Another quick drag of my talon made one simple four letter word pop up, expressing my feelings on the matter. The woman gently scratched my head feathers, eliciting a soft trill as I leaned into her hand. Maybe it wasn't so bad still having my intelligence. It wasn't like I couldn't still just relax my mind and just enjoy doing the stuff my more feral side wanted to do. On the bright side, this meant I still had someone to talk to, so I wouldn't be as lonely.

"This is great. Now, when you filled out your paperwork, you never gave us the name you wanted to be called in this form. You explained you didn't want a name, so we could call you whatever we wanted. Do you remember that?" I nodded and she continued. "Have you changed your mind on that?"

This time I shook my head for no. I still didn't care what they called me. I recognized people by sight and scent, so what use did I have for names?

"What do you think of the name Rossa? I read on the internet that it's an Italian name meaning red, probably because of roses. I picked it for obvious reasons." She poked my red dyed chest feathers and I fluffed up in response, earning a laugh. "So is that a yes?" Still fluffed up, I nodded.

I stood up and stretched my wings out, then inspected my nest box and the pile of materials next to it. After the nest box came the avian toilet the engineers had seemed so proud of. My digestive system was giving me some interesting feelings now that I had eaten and drank, so it seemed like a good idea to figure out what was waiting for me.

The afternoon went surprisingly quickly, with reading and spelling review exercises, combined with work to improve my talon dexterity making the hours fly by. Before I knew it, my caretaker was preparing my habitat for my first night alone. She watched as I examined my nest box and began carefully arranging materials around it.

Something about building a nest didn't seem right however, and though I pictured something soft and cozy like a human's bed, my instincts seemed to be interfering, resulting in something more suited for brooding eggs. Frustrated, I gave up and found a comfortable perch to roost on instead. My caretaker laughed and assured me we'd work together in the morning to figure out something more comfortable, then she scratched my head, wished me a good night and walked out.

To kill some time, I returned to my little dirt pile and once again started rubbing the iron rich soil into my feathers in an attempt to make my coloration even bolder, hoping to surprise my human friend when she returned in the morning.

Late that night I was awakened by a gust of air from my habitat door opening. I opened an eye, wondering why someone would be here so late and what they were doing in my habitat. A man walked in with a cart of cleaning supplies and gently closed the door behind himself. The poor overnight janitor probably hadn't been told the habitat was now occupied, so rather than scare him by approaching him, I opted to close my eyes and try to go back to sleep. That was why I was taken completely by surprise when the janitor grabbed me, wrapping me in a big towel and pinning my wings to my body.

I let out a screech as I was scooped up and taken from my room. As adrenaline broke through the fog of sleep, I finally realized the entire lab was still dark and the man carrying me hadn't been dressed in any kind of uniform. He carried me under one arm out a back door and to a small SUV in the parking lot. The back hatch opened with a bump of his foot, revealing a cage taking up the back cargo area, which he shoved me roughly into and slammed the door.

"I don't know why the fuck you willingly let them do this to you, but this lunacy cant be allowed to continue." He slammed the hatch and a few seconds later jumped into the driver's seat and we took off. The vehicle bounced and swerved as he rushed away from the scene of his crime, throwing me across the cage and into the bars repeatedly. I screamed and squawked angrily, but he never responded.

The rough ride smoothed out as we hit the freeway and I switched from screeching and raging to working on an escape plan. The latch keeping what was essentially a dog crate, closed was simple. All I needed was to lift it up on the handle and slide it over to disengage the latch, however my beak was too wide to get through the bars. I figured I could get my foot through and use my talons to slide the latch, but I couldn't get my foot high enough to reach.

I stood back and took a moment to clear my head while I examined my situation. The crate was made of flat panels held together with metal rods in each of the four corners, while the top and bottom were held on by hooks that connected to the side panels. There was a chance I could pull myself higher using one foot and my beak, and try the latch with my free talons, but I wasn't sure if I could support my weight using just the very tip of my hooked beak.

The SUV swerved a little and I looked up at the driver, who was poking furiously at his phone. Even if I could get the cage open, I'd still be trapped in here with my kid... or I guess birdnapper, hurdling down the freeway. My eyes drifted to the cage's corner bars and I grabbed it with my talons, lifting it slowly. The rod slid up with relatively no resistance until my leg went as high as it could reach. Using the front edge of my beak, I nudged the bar up further and further until finally... It hit the roof and stopped. I swore, which came out as an unintelligible squeak and turned back to staring at the latch.

I'd have to try my original plan and hope I had the neck and beak strength to hold myself up long enough to open the latch. There was a sudden roaring noise which vibrated the whole vehicle, followed by a violent jostling, then suddenly I was falling. No, we were falling! The car bounced once, then I was thrown around my cage as we rolled in a terrible cacophony of breaking glass and crunching metal and plastic.

My senses slowly returned and I found myself lying in a heap in my twisted, mangled cage. Every joint ached as I checked myself over and got my bearings. The SUV was upside-down and the roof seemed to have collapsed a bit, popping the back hatch open. My cage's door had also been popped open by the crash, so after a careful look around, I made my escape.

That was about when I heard the driver call out. The sound wasn't exactly a cry for help, but more of a high pitched animalistic moan that sent shivers down my spine. It wasn't the kind of sound you'd ever hear from a healthy human being. I approached the driver's window and peeked in, not really knowing what to expect. The airbags had deployed and he had been wearing his seat belt, but he was hanging limply from his seat, not fully conscious and still moaning.

My eye caught the glow of his phone resting against the shattered windshield, so I squeezed in and carefully plucked it out with my beak. I slid my talon across it's cracked screen and a pass code prompt came up, but beneath that I saw the emergency call option. Taking one last look at the injured man, I opened the phone and poked nine, one and one. When the operator answered, I shoved the phone back into the car next to the injured driver and made my escape.

Part of me wondered why I had bothered trying to save him. After all, he had stolen me and almost killed me with his bad driving. I stopped and looked around, trying to figure out my next move. We were in the bottom of a ravine and I could hear the roar of cars on the freeway above. The sky was clear and the moon was nearly full, so I wasn't exactly blind, but the thought of making my very first flight in the dark scared me, so I moved a safe distance away from the wreck and took cover in some low brush as the sound of sirens approached in the distance.

I spent the next couple of hours watching the rescue followed by the recovery of the wrecked car from my hiding spot. I felt like such a vulture watching the scene, then chuckled to myself, a feeling I was pretty sure no avian had ever felt before me, when I realized the irony.

When the last of the tow trucks left and the ravine once again fell into peace and relative quiet, I drifted off, hoping to catch a little sleep before the sun made it impossible.

The morning chorus of birds a few hours later had an extra voice as a lammergeier screamed in annoyance up at the trees.

Blinking my eyes at the morning sun, I carefully extracted myself from the previous night's impromptu shelter and stretched my wings, checking my flight feathers for damage. Confident I hadn't lost anything vital, I carefully stretched to warm up my muscles, then took some time to empty my mind of any human concerns before launching myself into the air. My heart leapt with joy as my wings carried me aloft, and as the trees fell away, I couldn't help but scream in triumph. I was airborne!

Looking down, I saw the trail of destruction from the previous night's crash leading up to the twin ribbons of asphalt that made up the interstate. I followed the highway to a pair of long bridges spanning a huge river valley, noting the positions of a few possible food sources along the way. The valley looked so familiar as I glided above, catching the few thermals already beginning to rise off the warming asphalt below. I could see a few small buildings, parking lots and paved trails, along with railroad tracks alongside the river and even a few early morning joggers. Invigorated by the exhilaration of flying, I dropped down into the valley, flying just above the treetops, investigating the area. A pair of people on the walking trail babbled something as I rushed overhead and pointed up at me, but I continued on, aiming for where I thought I remembered a small train platform.

I passed from an area of high grass to a cleared area with a crossroads and a little shelter across the street from a big old wooden building that had been turned into a visitor's center. There was the train platform, right where I remembered from my previous life! I knew this place! Landing gently on the peak of the platform shelter's roof, I stopped to rest and look around. Human voices chattered from the parking lot across the street and I noticed a couple people holding small objects up in front of their faces and pointing them at me. I thought for a few seconds before remembering the strange objects were cameras. The humans were taking pictures of ME! I puffed up proudly, posing for the photographers, then I watched as they turned to their phones, snapping even more pictures. Curious, I jumped from the roof and glided down to a big wooden sign near the photographers, eying their phones, wondering why I felt as if I knew this was going to cause trouble for me in the near future. More photos ensued now that I was closer before I finally got bored and took off again, heading back to the interstate in search of something to eat.

As it turned out, memorizing the location of a few expired deer I had spotted along the highway had been sort of a waste. Unlike myself, who relied on sight for spotting lunch, turkey vultures have an incredible sense of smell, especially when it comes to finding dead stuff to munch on. All I had to do was follow the other vultures and they'd lead me right to the roadkill. Setting down gently a little distance away, I watched the native birds enjoying their meal, really hoping my presence as a non-native bird didn't disturb them too much. The scene before me was really fascinating to watch, even if it was kind of gross and gory with the birds sticking their featherless heads inside the body to grab at the tastier chunks of meat. I shivered and stood back watching for quite some time. Normal vultures were so gross, but also awesome.

Though I was significantly bigger than the turkey vultures, I just couldn't bring myself to steal from native birds, so I took off, scattering a few of the birds along the fringes of the group who replied with indignant grunts and hisses. Not far from there I found just what I was looking for: another unfortunate victim of the automobile that had been mostly picked clean, leaving mostly scattered bones. Snatching the upper portion of a foreleg, I took to the air, carrying my prize in my talons as I flew back toward the valley in search of a nice rock, or some concrete to break the bone up with. I found exactly what I was looking for at the base of one of the valley walls in the form of a big fallen boulder, near a paved footpath. Climbing up and up, then finally coming nearly to a stop, I lined up with the boulder far below and let the bone drop. I tucked one wing in and spiraled downward, giving chase until the bone hit with a satisfying crack. Checking with my talons, I found the bone hadn't fully broken, so I once again picked it up and lifted it even higher before taking aim, dropping it and chasing it down again. This time the bone split and I quickly swallowed one half before being distracted by a shutter clicking.

I picked up the second piece in my beak and marched over to the human standing on the nearby trail, dropped the bone at his feet and looked up curiously. He just stared at me, dumbfounded, so I gave the cutest trill I could manage, cocking my head and continuing to look up. Back when I was human, an interaction like this would have absolutely blown my mind, just as it appeared to be doing to this poor guy too. Finally he stooped down and slowly reached out to touch my head, which I allowed, and even pushed my head into his hand, prompting him to scratch, which elicited another more natural trill of pleasure from me. Finally I pulled away, tugged at his shoelace to untie it, then took my bone and flew off to find a nice tree to take shelter in and catch a nap.

That afternoon more people with cameras were waiting as I soared across the park, making a few circles around the train platform before finally landing on a sign close enough to the ground that a few people even managed to get close enough for selfies. The excitement of the photographers, probably birders with a little general public mixed in, was entertaining. I was having fun, and if my plan worked out as I hoped, it'd eventually get me a ride home to the lab. A few days went by and the crowds grew larger and larger. Word was spreading quickly about the endangered bird lost thousands of miles from her home range, practically showing off for the local bird watchers. By the third day, I started mixing up my appearance sites, hoping to spread the crowds out, because frankly, they were starting to make me nervous.

In the beginning, interacting with people was a lot of fun. Most were content to keep their distance and watch quietly, while a few got a little too excited and even fewer actually pressed their luck and tried to touch without consent, which meant I'd simply fly away to play with a different group. However by my fourth day in the wild, the charm had worn off. I was getting tired of the constant attention of too many people and had come to regret my early friendliness to strangers. I enjoyed the valley and the familiarity it had, but it seemed that every time I found a nice quiet roost to nap at during the heat of the day, I would soon hear crunching sticks under clomping, clumsy feet.

That evening, I returned to the big visitor's center across from the train platform and perched on the roof, tiredly looking out across the crowded parking lot, I started to feel desperate. I wanted to go home, or at least find some place quiet to live.

The sound of something heavy landing on the roof and a slight scrabbling of talons next to me made me jump and I turned to find myself looking into a large avian face with a short yellow hooked beak, rusty red-brown head, chest and shoulders and large tufted lynx ears. I nearly flew off in fear until I spotted the bird's white vest with a strangely familiar blue logo on the chest.

Not a bird, I corrected myself upon seeing my visitor's gray feline rear half, a gryphon. "Enjoying being a celebrity, Rossa?" She asked in a scratchy voice, speaking near perfect English.

I shook my head no.

"My name is Cassandra, I'm project lead for the lab that made you. Your caretaker, Ann, is waiting for us a little ways down the street, since she couldn't find a parking spot here." Cassandra gestured to the packed parking lot.

I stared blankly at the gryphoness. There was so much I wanted to say, but I had no way of communicating with my rescuer. The hawk gryphon tilted her head curiously and I moved in, leaning the side of my face against the bigger gryphon's chest affectionately. A few seconds later I felt her talons gently petting my back and heard a soft purr starting to rumble in her chest.

"As much as I enjoy the bird snuggles, we really should head back now." Cassandra said softly.

I pulled away and nodded my head, giving my wings a good shake. The gryphon launched herself like a cat into the air, spreading her wings mid-leap and taking flight. I gave chase, my lighter build allowing me to quickly make up for the bigger avian's head start.

Within minutes I could see the van waiting in a dirt pull-off on the side of the road with its back doors wide open and my human friend sitting on the bumper. I screeched with happiness and dove straight at her, noticing a thick leather glove covering her hand and most of her forearm. Ann looked up and raised her arm with a smile and I decelerated, extended my legs and landed as gently as possible.

My friend's arm dipped a bit as I touched down and she grunted. "Oof, well I'm glad to see you've been eating well on your adventure. Do I even want to know where you've been finding your meals?" I quickly gestured "No" and she laughed, scritching my head. "Just hold off on giving me any friendly preening until you've cleaned your beak. I don't want roadkill in my hair." After that remark, I made it a point to preen her hair at the first chance I got.

Cassandra landed nearby and hopped up into the van, sitting back on her haunches and retrieving a tablet from the front passenger seat. Ann lowered her arm, letting me hop off into the back of the van and then shut the doors, appearing a few seconds later at the driver's door. Some time during my time in the wild I had lost my rubber talon cap so when the gryphon offered me the tablet, I found writing messages nearly impossible, so I settled for listening to her recap everything that had gone on in my absence.

The man who had broken in and birdnapped me had survived the crash with only a mild concussion and had been identified by security footage and some of my feathers in the wreckage. My rescue had actually been planned for the second day I was gone, once the suspect had been identified as the one who had taken me, but between the police investigation and corporate's glacial pace at authorizing Cassandra's participation had led to huge delays.

The gryphonic project lead had insisted on going, since she was the only person in the lab capable of following me in the air if I decided to run. She also explained that she thought her own experience being transformed into a gryphon would allow her to connect and reason with me on some level.

I quickly grew to like the gryphon during our ride home. She told me the story about how the gryphons came to be in our world and how she was one of the first to be infected by the alien nanotech that created them. Then how she and a few survivors of the nanite outbreak escaped and the ordeal that they endured following the escape. As it turns out, part of the reason she chose me over other applicants for transformation was because one of her friends from that adventure had been a bearded vulture gryphon.

That night, back at the lab both my caretaker and my new gryphon friend, camped out in my habitat. I was quickly fitted with a new talon cap so I could once again communicate via text and we stayed up late into the night discussing my little adventure. My first accidental foray into the wild had mostly been successful, but it had also left me rethinking taking the cushy life in the sanctuary where I'd hardly ever get to fly like I had in the valley.

The truth was, I really enjoyed my time as a wild bird and I couldn't wait to try it again. I had no idea at the moment how to do it, but I knew I had to convince the people responsible for me that I needed my freedom. I hopped down from my perch and snuggled up to the hawk gryphon on her sleeping mat. She opened one sleepy eye and raised a wing to drape across me. Not only she the warmest of my visitors, her support would be essential for my freedom.

I drifted off safe and warm, my nares filled with the exotic but not unpleasant scent of gryphon.