[ WP ] You are human being that was born as a baby bird before you had discovered your shape-shifting powers .

Pain. 
 
 Shock. 
 
 A bright light, following a comfortable darkness. 
 
 Lost are the comforts of the egg, and now of the night. Replaced with color, sound and scent. 
 
 Four siblings. Now three. 
 
 Three siblings in the nest. One consumed by the leaves below. 
 
 Three siblings chirp for food. One chirps the loudest, knowing it will earn him the most reward. 
 
 He knows this, and he knows why his sister was cast out, her having been very sick. 
 
 One sibling unlike the others sees a caterpillar. And unlike his siblings, he sees both food and potential. The young moth-to-be could be him also. 
 
 Two siblings will fly away, and later North. 
 
 The third will fly also, but not as a bird. Perhaps as a dragonfly, until he happens upon an autumn picnic. 
 
 There will be men. 
 
 And a man he will be, once again. 
 
 [ Note: Sorry about the altered perspective, I forgot about it when I started. ] 

