I woke up to two big, beady eyes staring at me.
I twitched in surprise, blinking at the tiny, fluffy creature in front of me. My sibling. It had finally hatched.
Before I could process that, a shadow passed overhead. A massive figure soared toward the nest, wings outstretched.
The mother.
She landed gracefully on the edge of the nest, tilting her head as she observed us.
"Oh, now you show up?! Where the hell were you when I was starving?!"
Or at least, that's what I wanted to scream. But, of course, all that came out was an angry little chirp.
[Host has received Beginner's Package.]
I blinked. Oh, now you decide to help, system?
"You're kinda late," I grumbled internally.
[Open Package!]
[You have received the skill: Communicate.]
[You have received 300 XP.]
[You have leveled up 2x.]
The moment I recieved the skill, I felt something change, like flood gates opening. I suddenly felt less constricted.
I opened my beak.
"Can you understand me?"
The words came out smoothly, but the moment they did, I froze. My mother, who had been focused on my newly hatched sibling, slowly turned her head towards me. Her black eyes locked onto mine, unblinking.
…Did I mess up?
I held my breath, waiting for some kind of reaction, but she simply ruffled her feathers before leaning down.
Instead of answering, she did something unexpected —she began regurgitating food.
Instinct took over. Without hesitation, I stepped forward and ate.
The warmth of the meal spread through my tiny body, and a new system notification popped up.
[Status: Hungry removed.]
I let out a satisfied sigh. That was surprisingly good.
Now that I am no longer starving, I need to figure out exactly what I can do.
I stretched out my wings, observing them closely. They were small, the white feathers slightly damp. I flapped them—first gently, then harder. The wind barely stirred. I flapped again. Still nothing.
Flying was out of the question for now.
Alright, legs next.
I shifted my weight and lifted one foot, setting it down carefully. It felt… weird. Unnatural. But I could stand. That was a good sign.
I took a step. My talons scraped against the nest's woven surface, failing to grip. My legs wobbled dangerously, but I forced myself forward. Another step. Then another. A third—whoops.
I fell flat on my face.
Tch.
Shaking off the embarrassment, I pushed myself up. My mother didn't even acknowledge my struggle, too busy tending to my sibling. Good. At least I wouldn't have to deal with judgement.
I tried again.
Step. Step. Wobble. Step.
This time, I didn't fall.
A few more careful movements, and I started getting a feel for my balance. My center of gravity was much lower than I was used to. My legs felt awkward, thin but sturdy in their own way. It was completely different from walkingg as a human.
I adjusted my stance, spreading my talons wider. It helped.
I took another step—this time faster.
Another.
Another.
It was getting easier.
By the time I completed a full lap around the nest, I was breathing a little heavier, but the wobbles had lessened. My muscles ached slightly, but that was a good thing. It meant I was building strength.
Still not enough.
I crouched down, bending my legs. I wanted to see how far I could jump.
Pushing off with all my strength, I launched myself upward—
—only to land awkwardly on my side.
…okay. Maybe not my best idea.
Still, I wasn't done yet. I rolled over, glapped my wings for balance, and got back on my feet.
Another jumps. This time, I adjusted midair, flapping instinctively to steady myself. I landed on both feet.
Better.
I tried again. Jump. Flap. Land.
My body was learning. Adapting.
I grinned. This was progress.
I may have been reborn as a weak little dove, but I wasn't planning on staying that way.