The sun’s morning rays blind me before I even wake up. I roll over in my slumber and pull my wing above my head. The next thing I know, light, dancing fingers tickle my midsection until I’m writhing. My wing extends out and smacks my attacker away.

My sister giggles hysterically as she picks herself up off the floor. I groan loudly, “Matildah, how many times do I have to tell you to stay off my perch?!”

She puts her hand on her cheeks, her wings tucking in, and she arches her eyebrows in mock surprise. “Oh, I guess that means you don’t want to go to the Fledgling Ceremony? My mistake! I’ll just flap off then and go by myself.”

It takes a moment for the words to fully reach my pointed ears. Then my eyes widen, and I throw off the downy covers from my nest and begin rushing around. “Oh pellets!”

Matildah smiles and examines her painted nails in the entryway until I’m ready. She casually hands me a toothbrush pre-pasted as I pass by to glide down the hollow towards the first floor. Matildah follows suit, hopping off the perch and spreading her wings to curve down the inside of the wooden tree and landing neatly on her pedicured talons down-floors. I frantically search the vanity for the wing pin I need to wear then check my feathers for any sticking out of place. A quick comb-through later, and we’re out the door.

Matildah, still quite amused at my state, trots along behind me as I scramble for the take-off point.

“Mom and Dad are already there, by the way! They needed to help set up!” she calls ahead to me. I can hear her smirk without looking. We have got to be the last birdmen there at this rate! No one else is still here except the Point Guard, Gerald.

I glance around the avenue of our neighbors’ hollows as we pass them running down the corridor of shaved bark and decorative vines. The leafy overhang nearly obscures the sky above until we reach the take-off point. Gerald gives us a sideways look of disapproval, but asks, “Fledgling Ceremony?”

I nod breathlessly. Matilda catches up, breathing just fine, and replies, “Good morning, Gerald. Flight announcement for two? You know where.”

Gerald nods, then ruffles his breast feathers as he takes a deep breath in, and utters in a deep reverberating voice, “Flying to the Fledgling Ceremony at Weatherford Academy, Flat Three! Flight time: 11 minutes! Elijah and Matildah Porinne” As he says them, the words appear from his mouth in glowing runes, float for a moment, then whip away on an intangible wind carrying them to the Great Tree’s Ledger.

Now that the Speaking part was done, I grab my sister’s hand and pull her towards the tree level’s edge with me. She nods at me, grinning. Then we jump.