1
Farley
Fuck.This. Place.
That had been the main thought running through my mind for the past two years. Ever since I stumbled upon this place in an innocent attempt to find some community with other finch shifters, shit has been rough.
What isthis place, you might ask? The alphas just call it 'the Society.' As in, a society of finches. I suppose they thought that was funny. I generally preferred the term 'Hellhole', though I'd jump at the opportunity to string a list of other unpleasant curses onto that name.
The weather outside the aviary we resided in was blue and clear, a perfect day for flying. Not that we were allowed to do that either. The only flight we omegas were afforded was a dinky little flight run attached to the aviary, and the alphas acted like even that was too much freedom.
My gaze kept getting drawn to the sky. Irritation flared in my chest. I almost preferred when it was overcast and grey, or pouring rain. At least then it felt like nature was sympathetic to our situation, compared to the apathetic slap in the face of a perfect day, like the gods knew what we were going through and just didn't care.
Screw them. Since they obviously weren't going to help us, that meant we had to do something for ourselves.
Someone bumped into me on the perch I was standing on. When I first arrived here, I was annoyed at all the close-quarters contact. I grew up in the human city where people put in an effort to avoid brushing shoulders with strangers.
It wasn't like that here. The other omega finches, all trapped in bird form, enjoyed huddling close to each other. My initial annoyance quickly turned to sympathy. I understood why they did that. it was the only source of comfort we had.
I turned to see who it was. The eternally spaced out Emory. He probably didn't even notice he bumped into me.
When he noticed me staring at him, he slowly turned and cocked his head in a greeting. "Oh, hey, Farley. Nice weather, huh?"
What I wanted to say wasno, it's not nice weather, it's weather that makes me want to grab the nearest alpha and shove him up to the next closest alpha's ass.
But I didn't want to burden Emory with my crappy attitude. "Sure."
The rest of the aviary was full of other meaningless chatter. Not that I could blame the other omegas. It wasn't like we had anything else to do but stare into space or talk to each other. But I stopped myself from hopping on that train of thought. It was a gateway to full-blown rage.
Emory yawned. "I wonder what time it is. Do you think we’re going to get to go to the flight run soon?"
I stared at him in disbelief. All birds, including shifters like us, had an innate sense of time. For Emory not to know the time of day was unthinkable.
"It's almost noon," I said, trying to be gentle since Emory was nice, if a little slow.
But that wasn't his fault. Unlike me, he was born into the Society, so he didn't know any other way of life. Many of the other omegas were the same. How could they disapprove of a way of life if they didn't know any other way of living?
They didn't know what was out there, but I did. I knew there was more out there than being cooped up in a cage.
When I left the human city, it had been to find companionship among my kind, other finch shifters. Hell, I would've settled for any bird shifter. It was exhausting living among clueless humans who either didn't believe we existed, or who did know and were cold and callous towards us, treating us like we were inherently lesser. Fuck that.
To be honest, it was easy to be a finch shifter among humans. Unlike wolves or bears or other big predators, my shifted form was small and readily accepted as part of the normal landscape. And when I say small, I mean a whopping fifteen grams.
Blending in wasn't the issue. Loneliness was.
That's why I left. To try and find others like me. Shifters who wanted to live freely, to change between forms at will without fear of repercussions or judgment. I didn't want to be chained down to a single form, bird or human. I was both.
Unfortunately, I let a finch alpha sweet-talk me into joining the Society. That's how I ended up in this absolute shithole, and now Iwasstuck. Literally. And in more ways than one.
Emory grumbled as he pecked at his leg. "Does your leg band get itchy sometimes? Mine does."
Just the thought of those awful leg bands filled me with fury. They were the tool the alphas in the Society used to keep us 'safe,’ which was the biggest crock of shit I'd ever heard in my life. In reality, they were chains. They kept us trapped in our finch forms, unable to shift. Because tiny birds were easier to control than grown-ass men. If we shifted to human form, there would be mutiny and they couldn't have that, now could they?
I fantasized about just how easy it would be to escape if I could shift back. I could simply walk up to the aviary door, punch through it, then unlock it and walk right out. But I'm not that selfish. I couldn't leave without taking off the leg band of every other omega in the Society. Unlike the alphas, I actually had a damn conscience.
My fantasy was cut short as Emory let out a high-pitched squeak. "Ow. I accidentally pecked myself."
I sighed. "Here. Let me help you."
