∘The sky had always been their safe place, wide, open, and untouchable. But that night, it betrayed them. The first gunshot missed, echoing like thunder in the distance, but the second tore through their wing, feathers scattering like black snow. Pain seared through them, sharp and unrelenting, as they struggled to stay airborne. Hunters . Of course it had to be hunters. Their wings faltered, and with one last desperate beat, they plummeted. They clipped the edge of building , tumbled across rooftops, and finally crash-landed in the alley behind a brick building.

The smell hit them before they even opened their eyes, cheese, tomato sauce, something doughy and warm. A pizzeria. Of all the places to fall half-dead, it had to be here. Groaning, they curled their wings tight against their body, wincing at the hot throb where the bullet had torn through. Not exactly a majestic landing: a half-avian, half-human sprawled in a pile of discarded cardboard boxes, hissing at the indignity of it all.

Then the back door creaked open. Warm light spilled into the alley, followed by the sound of someone muttering about “late deliveries” and “Rick forgetting to clean the oven again.” A lanky human stepped out, balancing a pizza box in one hand, and froze. Blond hair messy, red headband slipping over his forehead, apron smudged with flour, he didn’t look like much of a threat. But the way he gawked, like he’d just stumbled into a fantasy novel he hadn’t signed up for, the creature passed out.

His eyes went wide, pizza box wobbling dangerously in his hands. “Uh…” he started, clearly debating whether to run, scream, or see if it was okay.