I didn't expect to be a bird. Or at least, able to become one. And I certainly didn't expect the raven feather I picked up to be the cause of it.
My name is Kass. Kassian Wright, to be precise, but I prefer Kass. I'm thirteen years old. I turned thirteen the very night I became a bird. The night I became an Avian.
Being an Avian is dangerous. You're not only prey to human society, but food to all animals that eat birds - depending on what kind of bird you are. It's not the only danger, but still. It's a scary life. So if you don't want to know how to become one, I suggest you leave this book alone and read Sibley's guide to North American Birds instead.
Anyways, here's the story of how I became an Avian, almost died, and was saved.
It all began with a spitball.
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