I stood alone.

In the middle of the aviary, the sounds of other birds filled the air. No longer able to pick out the sounds from Benji, I listened. While the haphazard mix of bird sounds had no pattern, they did provide a relaxing white noise. I started walking to the exit, unsure if I should stay there or leave. Neither felt right, I wanted to stay with Benji, but I knew there was no reason.

Reaching the door, I stepped into the mantrap. The door behind me latched while the door in front of me was unlatched. Waiting for me on the other side was Austin. Holding in his hand was the drawstring bag Benji had arrived with. He handed me the bag and gave me a nod.

"Benji wants me to give this to you." Austin said, "He wanted to make sure no one had read the letters before, so he asked me to give them to you." 

I slung the bag onto my shoulder. "Was this his?" I asked, pulling the small ring from my shirt pocket.

"Kind of. It's the same band he will be getting later. Allows him to be identified as Benji." Austin said, "I assume you'll get yours before you... you know"

"Yeah, I know," I said.

"I thought you might want that as a memento, and I stamped them at the same time even," Austin said. "If you want, we are going to band him in a few. You can stay and join us for that if you would like."

I thought about it but ultimately turned him down. I don't think I could watch them, assumably, man-handle Benji like that. I think Benji is ready to move on, and I need to as well. I thanked him for the offer and called a ride on my phone.

Austin gave me some information as I started to leave. His cell number and a small folder of info about what will happen to Benji. As the car left, the large print sign seemed to hang around in my view. I both wanted it out of my sight and wished it wouldn't at the same time. My flight wasn't until tomorrow, but I didn't want to be here any longer than needed. Unfamiliar places, alone, like I am, seemed uncomfortable and awkward. 

Arriving at the airport, I went to the desk for the airline. They were able to switch my flight and one leaving that night, and I would be home not terribly late.

Security was less trouble, no concerns over my face or any stops. Walking down the path to my gate, everything seemed slowed. My head felt like a rush, and I thought I might fall. In the back of my head, I saw thoughts, saw visions of myself doing things—eating, hunting, flying. The thoughts felt weird but correct like I wanted to do what the thoughts were suggesting. I started to relax, started to let myself go...

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I shouted aloud, "WOAH! NO, NO, NO!" Pulling my head up to look at the ceiling. I missed my dose, and the inhibitor was wearing off. Walked quickly to the nearest restroom. Reaching it, I dug through my bag, looking for the bottle. Of all places I did not want to have an episode, the airport was on top of the list.

Pulling a pill from the bottle, I took it. Nothing immediate happened, but I continued my walk. The further I went, the less oriented I felt and the more disconnected from my body. My walking felt natural when I was off the drug, and now it was back to my usual stumbling, fighting to keep upright. This was the way it had to be, the only way I could be me.

The flight home was mostly uneventful. No one wanted to sit next to me, which at first felt bad, but halfway through the flight, I realized all around me were empty seats. Plenty of personal space, I guess? When I arrived at the airport, I waited before exiting the plane and letting everyone off before I attempted to leave. My head ached, my tail was sore from the constant pressure, and my legs were asleep. 

I went to baggage claim and awaited my checked bag for twenty minutes. Only a few bags remained, but mine never arrived. I realized I had never brought the bag with me from the aviary, and all I had brought back was Benji's small drawstring bag I had on my back. I left defeated and called for a taxi at the pickup. 

Arriving at the house, I stepped in without a knock. I was exhausted from all the traveling, and I had been gone less than 24 hours, but it felt like I had been moving for days. I immediately walked upstairs and into my room, closing the door behind me. 

"Lyall? You can back.... already?" Nash asked through the door.

"yeah. I just wanted to be home." I said, tired, lying in bed. The door swung open, and Nash slowly stepped in.

"Did everything go fine with Benji?" Nash said quietly,  standing at the side of my bed.

"Yeah, he's happy. They're all happy." I said, reaching into my pocket and removing the metal ring. "The guy there gave me this, and I figured you may want to put it up."

Nash carefully grabbed the ring from my hand. "Is this his band?" Nash asked.

"It's the same as the one he was getting, and he didn't have it when I left," I said, still lying back in the bed. I sat up and reached for the drawstring bag, removing a bundle of envelopes. "Benji wanted to ensure everyone got one of these, and I am supposed to deliver them," I said, handing Nash the stack of letters.

"Ah, stork duty?" Nash said with a light chuckle. I couldn't help but smile at the corny joke. Nash shuffled through the letters before removing one from the stack and handing it to me. "This one for you."

I looked at the envelope. In rough, barely legible writing was "Lyal" although it was visually closer to "lyol." I started to open the envelope before Nash spoke. "Seems the only one who doesn't have one is Jeremy?" Nash said, confused. He left the room, still shuffling through the letters as I continued opening mine.

The writing inside was much cleaner and legible compared to the outside.

"Lyall,

I'm writing this assuming you still flew out with me, if you did thank you for coming in along and being with me for my journey the past few months. I know you have been struggling with it all, and I wish I could have helped. I am ready for my next step. Having to have others do everything for me, just so I could keep sitting around doing nothing, does not feel right to me. I would rather be like Damien and take this head-on instead of fighting it. 

Maybe we will meet again, but I wont forget you guys.

-Benji"

I closed the letter and sat it on the bedside table. I should have stayed, I should have watched Benji get banded, and I should have stayed with him for a while. Instead, I rushed out of there because I couldn't face it. I lay in bed and tried to get some sleep. I had a long day; starting tomorrow, being tired would not help.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

My phone's alarm went off as I quickly sat up and scrambled to turn it off. I tried to stand but felt incredibly disoriented, stumbling and falling to my knees. My tail was useless in its now important role of balance. My eyes require two steps to blink, and my feathers are not adjusting on their own. I walked downstairs and into the living room, where I saw Nash, Matthew, Jeremy, and Westin. I sat down in the recliner and tried to join them.

"Morning," I said to the group. Westin looked over to me and responded, "How's the first day back?"

"Hard, I dunno how I feel about it," I said to Westin. "he's happy, he's done, but like, is it Benji who is happy?"

Nash sighed. "Lyall, can I be honest with you?" he asked. "This was going to happen no matter what. Benji just got tired of waiting for it to be forced on him. The same as Damien and Darren."

"I know, I know," I said before Nash continued, "You cent go thinking that way, that it's your fault," He said.

"Maybe that is the way to go..." I said quietly. I tried to stand but lost my balance and fell. Pulling myself back onto my feet, I stumbled into the kitchen—the unnatural feeling of my body fighting the entire way. Pulling meat from the fridge, I tried to get my body to eat it. But my human mind fought it.

Over the next month, I took the inhibitor daily. Never allowing myself to skip a dose, I tried to get used to the off feelings it gave me, but they were better than changes, right? The new year was wrought with fun challenges. 

Westin moved in late January, taking what was Benji's room. It seemed wrong for someone else to use it, but saving it was pointless and a waste. Getting to know Westin more, he seemed alright. He never talked much except when you found one of the few topics he was passionate about. Then it seemed like you couldn't stop him.

February started with a massive snowstorm that killed any hope of leaving the house. Nowhere was open for the days it took for the snow to calm, leaving everyone a little couped up. 

The power was in and out on the third day of being snowed in, and it could be on for an hour and off for four immediately after. Benji would have hated the cold; the temps would drop to the point you could start to see your breath. The power would come on long enough to get a bit of heat before dropping out again. 

I had not taken the inhibitor for two days; what I had of it was gone, and the postal service was delayed for the weather. The disconnected feeling was gone, and not everything felt... better? I could keep my balance again, my eyes seemed to work without any thought, and eating felt normal again. Everything was going right until the cold set in again. 

Everyone who could still wear coats wore and even slept in them—those who couldn't stayed wrapped in blankets whenever possible. We had fun with the time, from card games to storytelling, and we found many ways to keep the time passing. When sleeping, we kept a heater in each of our rooms so that whenever power did come back, it would give some extra warmth. 

I woke up at 2 am on the fourth day of the storm. The power was currently on, and the heater was running. Feeling thirsty, I carefully left my room, being quick to shut my door in an attempt to keep the heat inside. Once in the hall, I could see my breath in the air as I quickly walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Grabbing a cup of water, I walked toward the stairs. While walking across the living room, the lights went out. 

I tried to keep walking to the stairs, but my vision was pure darkness. I stumbled through the room, trying to find my way up the stairs. Taking my time, I slowly climbed the stairs out of fear of falling. Although my balance was restored, my vision still left me blind. Once I reached my room, I swung the door open and felt my way into the room. I reached for the door but could not find the handle in the darkness. I sat the glass of water down on the bedside table. Giving me two hands to search with.

Closing the door, I turned around and reached for the bed. Finding its edge, I went for the glass on the table, only to find it was not there; the table as a whole was empty. Feeling the bed, I found out why as I ran my hand across the wet blankets and bedsheets. Angry, I removed the comforter and sheets, leaving me with a damp bed and a thin blanket. I made do, getting in bed and trying to sleep the night away. The single blanket gave almost no help from the cold.

I held my eyes shut, shivering and wishing the night would end so I could at least see what was going on. As I shook, I was now half awake when I felt myself getting... warmer? A slow-spreading warmth ran across most of my body, making falling asleep a breeze. The best sleep I have had in days. 

I woke up to the room acting like a sauna. The lights were on, and the heater clearly had been running for a while. I sat up and looked around the room, the sun was shining under the doorsill, and the heater glowed orange. I pulled the blanket off myself with a single hand. In a swift motion, I caught a glimpse of brown from my arm. Pulling my arm back to look at it, I was shocked to find I could see no skin. Instead, my entire arm was covered in feathers flowing down to the back of my hand.

Quickly I followed the path of the feathers up my arm, where they met with my torso. I unbuttoned my shirt only to find everything, from my arms to my knees, covered in feathers of various colors. Looking in the mirror, even my back was fully covered in feathers. Even the little skin on my legs felt rough and more rigid than before. I walked into the hallway to find it, too, was warm. No longer could I see my breath. Walking down the stairs, I heard Matthew yell out. "Powers back on! Should stay on now that the storm passed."

"I think it was a few hours too late," I said. 

"I don't think they should have cycled it as they did, but at least the lines didn't freeze," Matthew said from the other side of the room. He turned around and looked at me, his eyes darting up and down.

"I guess I know why I was warm last night," I said, half joking. I couldn't help but try to make a small joke. Otherwise, I would probably be freaking out.

"Did you... have an episode or..." Matthew asked.

"Nothing, at least I don't think I did. But I was freezing last night and felt very warm..." I said, wondering if I had unknowingly forced the change.

Nash and Rylie made no mention of the change. The shocked looks said enough, but both had been critical of the drug that may have prevented it. That or they didn't want to point it out. Westin was quick to notice and say something. He stated that I "Looked mean as hell," which I think was a compliment, but I didn't want to look any different. 

The next few days were spent trying to get everything back in order from the freeze and finish getting Westin moved in. Benji's stuff had been moved to the basement in totes next to Damien's. Again not being easy storing his stuff with all the rest of the totes. But at least this time, there was more time to prepare. The new pack of inhibitors came, but after experiencing a week without them, I don't know If I want to retake them. Thinking maybe having the changes was worth it compared to the difficulties they caused. Perhaps I'm just too far gone for them to work happily. I left the box still sealed in the kitchen, not wanting to deal with the weird unreal feeling they gave me.

"Westin!" Nash yelled from the kitchen. "We are all waiting on you to get down here!"

Matthew, Rylie, Jeremy, and Nash sat down at the table. I was sitting at the far end, trying to straighten the feathers on my shoulder. Feathers had their positives, like never having laundry, but they had their downfalls too. Keeping them in order was a job all its own, and the things are sensitive to any force. Which explains all the preening birds do.

Westin came marching down the stairs, his button-down shirt lopsided with one side shifted to the wrong buttons. Westin hated the feeling of the shirt against his chest feathers but was too embarrassed to walk around shirtless. I haven't worn clothes since my last change, freeing if I do say so. It seems like one of the things that seem normal to do without. Nash tells me that my mind is slowly allowing the hawk's instinct, but I think it's more reasons not to wear anything. 

We sat and ate our meal as usual. I couldn't tell you the last time I ate something properly cooked, but the raw foods were more flavorful. Rylie continued to eat raw with me, leaving three fewer mouths to prepare for. Rylie and I got beef strips, and Jeremy ate his small fish. 

"I swear you guys just don't like my cooking," Nash laughed. "Wes, you'll tell me if it's bad, right? If you start eating crickets, I will have to assume."

Westin looked slightly confused. "Crickets? Why would I eat those?" 

"Well, you know..." Nash said. "Isn't that what jays eat?"

"I have no idea. Nor do I want to know!" Westin said, closing his eyes. "I'll cross that bridge when it comes. But I would rather that over the raw crap they are eating." 

"Ask Matthew what he can eat. Fresh raw sounds great compared to his roadkill." Rylie said.

"I haven't eaten roadkill, nor will I ever eat it," Matthew shouted.

"We'll have to see, won't we" Rylie winked at Matthew.

Matthew shook his head. "Nah, I'm good." 

"Lyall's the only one who has eaten properly, right rat catcher?" Rylie said, looking at me.

I shook my head. "As long as I have hands, I'm not doing that again. I don't want to eat this stuff in the first place." I said, holding up my plate.

"Hands, eh? Specific choice, but I would have said feet." Rylie joked as she kicked my leg under the table.

"Ouch!" I shouted.

We finished dinner, and I moved to the living room with Westin. The more time I spent and got to know him, the more he reminded me of myself. Although he seemed to be able to control his changes better than I did, he still seemed to have trouble worrying about the changes. 

"How's the feather body suit doing you?" Westin asked.

"Fine, I think. It's weird getting used to feeling them move. It's like hairs all over." I said to him.

"It's better than other things that could have changed. I'm not looking forward to the face. You seem to be getting on fine with yours, though." Westin said.

"It's not as terrible as it was. When I was taking the pills, it felt weird and stiff. But now that I'm off them, it feels normal." I said, shrugging. "Everything feels better now, and it feels like everything is right."

"Once I get to that point, I'll probably call it quits. I think Benji was right. Why make it difficult on yourself." Westin said quietly.

As I tried to reply, something felt like it clicked in my head. A burning sensation went from the back of my head and down my arms to my hands, like a severe cramp but also hot. Holding one of my hands up, my fingers were frantically shaking from the pain. My arm looked as if it was slightly slimmer as longer feathers sprouted downward from my arm. My fingers straightened and held together, straight out. My hand grew feathers that quickly covered any bare skin. I knew now that there were no longer fingers at the end of my arm. My arm as a whole seemed to extend, the blanket of feathers filling the space below my arm, forming into a wing. I held both arms out as the surging was most manageable with them fully extended. 

I opened my mouth to scream, both in fear and some pain. But all that came out was the screech, getting the attention of everyone as I stood in front of the couch, changing. This was different from all my previous changes, and I felt entirely out of control of this one. Nothing I did affect the wings growing from me. The feeling of being disconnected from the change filled my mind, disconnected similar to how I had felt on the inhibitor. 

As the change began to slow, I closed my eyes. I knew what had changed, I didn't want to believe it, but eventually, I would see it. I tried to flex my fingers only to find they would not move. As I brought my arms close to my body, my wrist bent in a new direction. I could feel every feather sliding and moving as I folded my arms. 

I tried to think about reversing the change. But trying to imagine my arms, my mind was hazy. I could only imagine large, clumsy wings in place of my arms and hands, and I could only think of it as a bad dream. Maybe I could wake up? If I just opened my eyes and looked, it would be over, and everything would be fine. 

I held my arms out, fully extended, before opening my eyes. My arms were significantly longer. Without even a patch of skin visible. Looking down from my arm, feathers stretched beyond my waist—off-color white with brown at the wing's leading edge. Pulling my arm in to look at my hand, I was met with the reality that I had no hands. My arms were no longer arms by any definition. They were now fully formed wings, not built for picking up objects but for flight. 

"Lyall, you with us, buddy?" Matthew said from the other side of the couch. I nodded my head in assurance.

"I can't go back! They won't go away!" I frantically shouted. "I can't take them back. I can't imagine my arms!"

"It's ok, dude, we can make this work. Just stay calm and take a seat." Matthew said, walking toward me.

My mind was racing, trying to think of any reason why I couldn't think. My thoughts returned to the pill, the same disconnected feeling I had before, but in reverse. I sat on the couch, unable to guide myself down with my wings. Matthew sat beside me and tried to relax me.

"Deep breaths, deep breaths. It's not as bad as it seems." Matthew said, patting me on the back.

For the first time, I felt utterly helpless. I couldn't feel this change coming and still don't feel in control of it. Maybe it was a mistake. Perhaps it was still in my system. What if the inhibitor was blocking the wrong thing? I know I don't have long now, but could my attempt to stop the changes worsen them?