Only two years ago, I was a freshman in college. I was beginning my life by preparing for a long future in an office career. I was ready to grow up and become an independent adult. To live independently, find my place in the world, and possibly start a family. What happened in the next two short years led me to a life I never expected, never wanted, but grew to enjoy.

I live on my own now. I found my place in the world and even found a partner for my life. But I was not living in a small house in the city. I had no career to spend my time working on. I even started the family, but never the family I imagined. Instead of living the life I dreamed of, I lived amongst the trees. My body was reshaped to be less than two feet tall and covered in feathers. The family I dreamed of consisted of myself, a wild hawk, and four chicks hatched from eggs.

I was now a bird of prey. I am Lyall Williams, the Red-Tailed Hawk.

Time passes quietly when you get into the rhythm of life. It feels like I have just begun my new life, but summer has returned. The days were getting longer, and the air was only getting warmer. I haven't been able to keep track of time like I used to be able to. Now time is more told in reference to seasons rather than weeks or months. I know I began this life in March, but since then, fall and winter have come and gone.

Integrating myself into my new life became easier as I went. The mind of the hawk helped much through the first winter, and letting it take control allowed me to learn how I was supposed to survive. I was recently taking back more power as the hawk seemed to allow me more freedom. Its influence was still there and strong, but my human mannerisms were able to show more. Once winter ended, life became more manageable, and I truly felt like I belonged in my new life and became comfortable with how things were.

In the spring, I found myself a mate, and we raised four beautiful young together. I only understood the appeal of raising kids once I had raised my own. Although where my parents raised a single human child over eighteen years, I raised four hawk chicks in only a single season. Much of the care was provided for by my mate, but I tried my best to be a good father. Once they left the nest, I was a little depressed to see them go. The same memories of my childhood could not be replicated in their short, dependent youth. I still have a sense of satisfaction, but it still feels like there was much I missed out on.

Once all my chicks fledged, my mate and I spent less time together. We still live in the same field near the park where I completed my change. The interstate is near our field, the same one Jeremy and I took to visit Damien. The low-cut grass makes finding prey easy, but I try to avoid this as much as possible. The fast-moving traffic is brutal to keep track of when hunting. With winter drawing closer each day, it could be a backup plan if finding food in the field becomes difficult.

With summer came more visitors to the park. Although I tried to keep an eye out for my old friends and my mother, I struggled to find anyone I knew. I tried getting closer to the humans but found a few to be... unwilling to be kind. Stones and sticks had been thrown my way for getting close. Mostly out of fear, but for a few, they seemed to enjoy the torment. Bird watchers had been an interesting bunch. Most were easy to spot, and I tried my best to make myself visible to them. Although I wasn't alone in my mind, sharing it with the hawk, I still wanted to have even the slightest human interaction. They would get a kick out of it, breaking up the monotony of daily life for me.

While hunting one day, I struggled to find anything in the large open field. The park and paths had been exceptionally busy with folks dressed nicely for what I could only assume was a wedding. Weird to imagine all the festivities of marriage after what I had experienced as a hawk. Finding my mate felt more natural and didn't contain the pomp and grandeur of a wedding. We found each other, spent time together, mated, and raised our offspring. Together still, but less involved with day-to-day life after.

While struggling to hunt, I became frustrated by the large groups of people keeping the prey hidden away. With no success after hours of hunting, I decided that the highway was the better option. Perching myself on a high tree, I began to scan the low-cut grass and saw multiple moving things under the short grass. I questioned why I didn't do this sooner because of how easy it was to find prey here. Across the road, I spotted a brown rabbit. Although on my side of the road, there were plenty of field mice and other small creatures. The size of the rabbit and ease of grabbing it won out.

I jumped off of the branch and opened my wings. Plunging myself at speed towards the rabbit, with my talons held out. My eyes were laser-focused on the rabbit, who was unsuspecting of me, as I raced closer. Across the first half of the highway, I dipped lower, gaining more speed in preparation for my strike. I started to cross the second half of the road when a shimmer of light caught my attention. I turned my head to see a blue and black blur of an object approaching, headed right for me. I tried to shift my wings and dodge the vehicle, but it was moving much too fast, and I was much too close. I never felt the impact. I don't remember much after that point. I only remember waking up lying in the grass next to the road.

I felt myself falling in and out of consciousness. My wing ached with sharp, throbbing pain, and movement only worsened the pain. I heard a voice that seemed panicked. It was a woman's voice, and she seemed afraid of touching me. I kept my eyes closed and thought this could be my end. But as I drifted away, I felt something lift me from the grass.

I opened my eyes to see I was in some box. Brown on the sides, but the top opened to what appeared to be a fabric covering. I could feel that we were moving at speed, with bumps every once in a while. I put together that I was being driven in a car of some kind. My wing throbbed with every bump, and I was reminded of my wing every time I attempted to move. I drifted off again after trying to unfurl my wing, the pain much too great to handle. Regaining consciousness as I felt my box being lifted from the back of the car. Now my aching wing was jostled by each of the human's steps. The hawk side of my mind had me anxious and uncomfortable by the enclosed nature of the box, especially with my painful wing.

Once the box was set down, the top opened for a brief moment, the bright light blinded me from seeing who was above me, but I felt a fabric cover fall onto me as I was lifted again. This time the pain in my wing caused my vision to fade.

Two soft voices could be heard. Both were much too quiet to understand, but as my eyes opened once again, I found myself wrapped tightly in a towel. I tried to move my wings, but the towel held them tightly to my sides. Even my head was mostly restricted from moving. My legs were tied, and I could not bring myself onto my feet.

"Well, look who's finally awake!" One of the voices spoke, my eyes slowly focusing on her to see short black hair and a white lab coat.

"Is she alright?" The other voice asked, her height shorter than the first voice's. Her red hair stood out against the primarily white and gray room.

"She appears actually to be a he. Would you mind checking the bands while I get the procedure ready?" The younger woman's head nodded as the taller lady walked out of the room, grabbing a tray of items as she left.

"Let's get you ready to be fixed up," The young red-haired woman said in a child-like voice. "Don't you bite me, you," She reached a hand around the back of my head, grigging and keeping me from turning. My mind was racing, questioning whether I should try to run or fight back. But ultimately, I froze and did nothing. I was staring with my beak open to strike but unmoving as she handled my head.

The younger woman prodded at my feet as she wrote down numbers from the loose-fitting band on my leg. "Weird, I've never seen one colored like this..." She said quietly, "If it were up to me, you'd be named Tucker. Seems fitting after your little accident." She laughed as I watched her remove a plastic cup attached to a hose from the table. I tried to fight the cup but was easily overpowered as the cup approached my face. With the mask covering my beak, I took a deep breath, struggling against the cup covering my face. Almost instantly, I was overcome by an immense tired feeling and struggled to stay awake.

I closed my eyes briefly, but my head was spinning, and I felt light. My vision faded once again, but at the same time, I no longer felt my wing. I no longer felt anything. My head fell back, and the cup stayed firmly over my beak as I fell unconscious.

As the feeling wore off, I opened my eyes to find I was now in a white box with a clear side. A towel was placed on the bottom, and one of my wings was now free. Looking over to my right wing, it was wrapped tightly with an off-white colored bandage. I attempted to move it but quickly found it painful, stopping any attempt to free it. The pain was more of a strong soreness rather than a sharp stabbing pain, not that it was any more preferable.

The younger woman was holding a book and looked confused as she flipped through the pages. She walked slowly over to my cage and peered inside. The book appeared to be a field guide of some kind. Most of the words were obstructed by her hand. A quick glance at the pages had photos of various bird legs and examples of bands.

"Oh, Tucker, your finally awake!" She looked excitedly through the clear plastic door. "You're probably all kinds of lost. One moment you're living, and the next, you're in a cage with a broken wing." She spoke with the same child-like voice. "You're a lucky one, Tucker."

It was weird to be speaking or, instead, be spoken to by a human again. She started to pick up that something was different, perhaps it was because of my lack of fear, but she seemed to chalk that up to the anesthetics. I kept watching her as she spoke. I ignored what she said, but finally, hearing someone talk to me was something I never realized I had missed. The hawk side of me wanted to be fearful and cower from the human before me, but for once, the human side seemed to be winning.

"Your band is being a pain, though. The code is valid, but the colors are all wrong. I've never seen one like yours before." The young lady talked, puzzled. A door behind her swung open, and the older lady from earlier walked in. "Did he wake up finally?" She asked as she walked closer to my cage.

"He's awake, it seems a little off, but I think he's still coming down." The young lady placed her knuckle against the glass, "aren't you Tucker?" I held my head back and looked between the two.

The older lady chuckled, "You're naming him?"

"I figured it's better than calling him hawk while he's here. Tucker kind of fits since he... you know.." She trailed off with a smirk.

"Was hit by a truck?" The older lady smirked, "Alex, you are something, you know that?" She laughed as she picked up the field guide off the table.

The two conversed for a while. I sat still on the towel in my little box, my mind still feeling like it was spinning. I laid my head on the fabric, wishing I could sleep, but my mind was still confused and delirious. As the fog in my head slowly wore away, I could feel the hawk's thoughts return. While I tried to stay calm, the hawk wanted to escape my predicament. Eventually, it came back in line with me, and it relaxed slightly.

Alex shook her head, laughing as she walked back to the table. "I got all the papers done, but the band seemed weird. Registration for it gave a reference number, but I don't know what it's referring to." Alex pointed to a spot on her paper, "It looked like it may have been part of a research project, but nothing came up when I searched it."

The older lady approached the table and looked down at the papers. "Oh, maybe it's a private project or something. Did you check outside the Department of Wildlife?" She walked over to the computer and typed on the keyboard. She seemed confused but continued typing before smiling and leaning back in her chair. "What did you name him?" She asked.

"Tucker, why?"

"Well, I don't think it's very nice to rename him. I think Lyall may want to be called his given name." She said jokingly.

Lyall

It had been so long since I heard that name. Hearing it again sent shivers down my spine. It had been over a year since I was called by that name or any name since my changes were completed.

"Your little book there is a bit out of date. World has changed since it was written, and Lyall here wasn't hatched like the other birds." She slid a piece of paper across the table, "He's probably the oldest Red Tail you'll ever meet."

"So he's a..." Alex looked at me through the window. Her eyes looked confused and surprised.

"He was a human. At least, he was until a year ago." The older lady looked at her computer again before nodding, "He was also a guinea pig for the stopper. So maybe he's still in there." She walked back to my cage and looked through the door. "We are gonna have you here for a little while, Lyall. Your right wing is broken and has pins inserted to hold it together. I'm assuming you can hear me?" She asked. I wanted to shake my head in agreement, but the hawk slowly regained control and froze.

As she began to turn her head away, I forced myself into control and let out a raspy screech. Her head quickly turned, and I stared, frozen. Her eyes widened, and she asked, "You are still in there, Mr. Williams?" I fought the instinct to freeze and lightly bobbed my head. "Well then, Lyall, I'm Elizabeth, and this is Alex." She gestured to Alex, who gave an awkward wave. "I had heard of some of the long-term effects of the drugs you were given, but I didn't believe it until now."

Elizabeth walked over to the table and picked up a folder. She glanced inside and sighed, "Looks like you'll be here for a while. That wing of yours is pretty roughed up, but it should heal as long as you don't try and push it. I've had similar injuries take a month or two with rehabilitation. Then you can get back to your life. You should be able to make a full recovery, thankfully."

Go back? Had I gotten myself this close to becoming another bird in a display? I wanted to run, but I was not getting out of this cage on my own, and even if I did escape, what would I do with a broken wing?

Were my friends still around? Would I still recognize them? I tried to think back to my time in the house. Rylie, Matthew, Nash, Wes, and Jeremy. Were they still around, or did they fall victim to the virus? But most of all, whatever happened to Mom?

As a hawk, I tried to keep an eye out for people I knew. At first, it was challenging to juggle keeping myself alive and looking for specific humans, but by the time I was getting settled in and I began to look, enough time had passed that maybe they had stopped looking. As time went on and with no success, I stopped looking. That was made more challenging when the time came to raise the chicks, too. Maybe Mom would be happy to hear I found someone and she had become a grandmother even, although her grandchildren were wild birds rather than humans.

Equal parts scary as much as it was exciting to imagine seeing my friends and family again. Exciting that I could let them know I was doing alright and share everything I had done. But also scary as much time had passed, and it took less than a year for me to change entirely. The reality is that unless something drastic happened, they were more than likely changed. Maybe not knowing was better than learning what had happened to them.

I laid my head on the towel again, looking at the little space I now occupied. I was going to be stuck here for weeks, maybe even longer. I wanted to cry or even try to express this. But I had no way of communicating with the two rehabbers. I had no speech or manner of pointing or writing to them. I was just a bird trapped in a cage.

A bird with a broken wing, far from my home, in a small glass cage.