"Quinn, Reilly, wake up," Michael whispered, shaking me vigorously. I only rolled over the other direction. Michael tried to shake me again, but this time I bolted up, hitting him in the noggin.

"Ow," I laughed.

"Well good morning to you too," Michael murmured.

Stretching, I got up and walked off to pee. I couldn't remember the last time I had emptied my bladder, so I ran as fast as I could behind the bushes.

"Hey Quinn, I've got to tell you, you have a real nice ass," Reilly said.

"Reilly, what the fuck?! Go away!" I screamed, pulling up my pants. Then I realized that he was behind the bushes and couldn't actually see me. He was just messing with me.

As I made my way back to camp I made sure to punch him extremely hard in his shoulder. He winced and yelled, "ow!"

I then realized I'd punched him in the shoulder he had gotten shot in.

"I'm sorry!" I yelled, checking to make sure his shoulder was okay.

"Just kidding, it didn't actually hurt," he grinned, trying to wrap his arm around me.

"I hate you... but, I am really sorry. It's my fault you got shot in the first place." I apologized.

"It's cool," he said, walking back to camp ahead of me. It's cool? That's all I get? No "apology accepted" or anything. Whatever, like I care.

"Hey Quinn, can you go catch another turkey? Or maybe three?"

"Michael, finding that was pure luck. How the hell do you expect me to find three just wandering around? And why do I have to do it?"

"Because, I'm getting us ready and Reilly is hungry," Michael replied, pretending to shuffle through his backpack.

"Then have Reilly get it," I growled.

"He needs to rest, especially after you got him shot!" He chirped matter-of-factly.

"I already said I was sorry! What more do you want?!" I asked.

"Breakfast," they both replied.

"Then will you forgive me?" I begged Reilly, "please?"

"Maybe," he replied, twisting a pocketknife between his fingers. 

"Fine," I sighed, giving in. I guess, now, I have to go find three whole three chickens. Why would there be three whole chickens just wandering in the middle of the forest?!

I tried running for a little, to see if I could cover more distance, but I was famished and my stomach was screaming at me. I guess I didn't realize how hungry I was until everyone was yelling at me for food.

After another five minutes the trees had started to thin, and I thought I saw a field up ahead. I thought maybe it would be filled with chickens, but to my dismay there were none. But instead it was filled with sheep. Giant fluffy sheep.

My hunger getting the better of me, I found myself biting my lip and making it bleed. I could feel the blood in my veins boiling and my stomach growling for a meal like this.

I grabbed the nearest sheep, hauling it over my shoulders like I'd seen men do in movies, and I ran like the wind. Michael and Reilly were going to be so excited I got an entire meal. I could feel myself grinning as I ran.

Surprisingly the sheep didn't make any noise as I ran, almost as if it was accustomed to being held. I almost felt bad about wanting to eat it, but then my stomach growled again and I rethought my approach.

"I got breakfast!" I cheered, making Michael and Reilly turn towards me. Their eyes immediately went wide, Michael's showcasing alarm.

"Quinn! What the hell were you thinking?! You can't just steal an entire sheep!" Michael yelled, grabbing the sheep from my shoulders.

"I was hungry. You were hungry. Do you want to eat or not?" I asked, fed up with him.

Reilly looked toward the sheep longingly. He was hungrier than I was. He hadn't gotten dinner last night like we had. Michael sighed and set down the sheep, giving in.

Before I knew it, Michael had snapped the creatures neck and was beginning to rip it into smaller pieces to roast. It was quite the gruesome sight, but my hunger kept me from looking away.

Michael threw me the sheeps leg and I caught it quickly, holding it over the fire. The smell was wonderful. I couldn't help but eat off little bites as I roasted it. For me, meat is like marshmallows. You have to char it on the outside and leave the nice juicy inside.

After roasting my sheeps leg perfectly, I tore into it unable to wait any longer. It was one of the most amazing things I have ever tasted. I really need to expand my meat categories. Before this I've never had sheep before. Maybe next I can have some cow. See, this is what hunger does to me. It makes me fantasize over meat.

"Quinn, you're chewing the bone," Reilly laughed, grabbing it from me. I nearly bit into his finger, but he quickly handed me another leg.

"Why am I only getting the legs? They're practically meatless!" I yelled, throwing the remaining bone at Michael's head.

"Because–"

"You! You are the one who stole my lamb!"

All of our heads swiveled toward the man running toward us. He was holding a very large pitchfork.

"Fly?" I asked, pulling my bag into my back, silently and swiftly.

Michael nodded and looked toward Reilly who also nodded. I counted to three before pushing off the ground and running for my life. But I didn't forget to grab some more lamb on my way out.

Taking my pack off I held it in my mouth, which was very uncomfortable since I was still a human. I sprung into the air, calling on my inner Bloodwing to transform me.

I knew I'd transformed when I felt my wings lift me through the trees, several of them whacking me in the face. I stuffed the remainder of lamb in my claw into my mouth.

Michael gave me a look screaming "you shouldn't have stolen his sheep"! I don't think he realizes that if I hadn't, he wouldn't have had breakfast at all. So much for a thank you.

I fell in line behind Michael who was flying behind Reilly. I watched as the trees below us grew smaller and smaller. I'd never flown in a plane before but this is what I'd imagined it to be like, minus all the wind. And the bugs.

Speaking of planes. The roar of an engine met our ears and we immediately dove. The air is supposed to be safer than the ground, and for the most part it is, but then there are giant metal contraptions that fly out of the clouds and try to hit you.

Trying not to be seen, we dove. I'd tried flying up through the clouds earlier, but that got me lost. We're supposed to have good navigation skills, but apparently mine suck. Michael had to come find me, and later he'd probably make fun of me for it.

Reilly pointed downwards toward a tiny little town and began flying downwards. As we descended all I could focus on the little fluffy white dots spotting the fields below. My stomach grumbled again. I guess we're having sheep for dinner too.