Kaiser's new parents were quite the pair. His father was a magnificent specimen of bald eagle masculinity – nearly three feet tall with an eight-foot wingspan that made passenger drones look tiny in comparison. His white head feathers gleamed like fresh snow, and his eyes held the kind of intensity that made fish write their wills before swimming upstream. His mother was slightly larger, as was typical for bald eagles, with talons that could probably open coconuts.
They'd taken him to Flight School 101, which mostly consisted of his father making high-pitched whistles that probably translated to "No, no, what are you doing? Who taught you to fly like that? Was it the pigeons? It was the pigeons, wasn't it?"
His father demonstrated proper soaring technique, using his wing tips to point out Kaiser's flaws with the precision of a disappointed flight instructor. "Your primaries are all wrong," the gestures seemed to say. "And don't even get me started on your tail feather positioning. Were you raised by seagulls?"
The family perched on a massive pine tree overlooking the river, its branches thick enough to support their weight while offering a perfect vantage point. The morning sun sparkled off the water like nature's own disco ball, and Kaiser was amazed by his new eagle vision. He could spot individual scales on fish from hundreds of feet up – it was like having built-in binoculars with ultra-HD resolution. In his previous life, he'd needed glasses to read his computer screen; now he could probably count the whiskers on a rabbit from three miles away.
The river below teemed with fish, their silver bodies flashing in the current like living mirrors. No other animals were around – probably because they'd learned that this particular spot was Eagle's Favorite Drive-Through.
His father made a series of head movements and wing adjustments that clearly meant "Watch and learn, young chick." The older eagle locked onto a target, his eyes tracking a particularly plump fish that was clearly having the worst day of its life. With a powerful thrust of his wings, Kaiser's father launched from the branch, soaring upward in a graceful spiral.
The hunting technique was poetry in motion. His father glided high above the water, positioning himself at the perfect angle before diving down like a feathered missile. The fish never stood a chance. Those massive talons pierced the water's surface with surgical precision, emerging with a wriggling silver prize. It was like watching a master chef at work, if the chef was really into extreme sports and fresh sushi.
Kaiser felt his chest puff with pride – until his mother started making shrill calls that probably meant "Stop showing off and eat your food before it gets cold!" Eagles apparently had their own version of dinner-table drama.
His father demonstrated proper fish-eating technique, starting head-first to avoid what Kaiser imagined would be the eagle equivalent of getting a fish bone stuck in your throat at a fancy restaurant. Their specialized digestive system could handle bones and scales like a living garbage disposal – another upgrade from his human form, which got indigestion from gas station sushi.
Feeling confident after watching his father's masterclass, Kaiser spotted his first target: a gray fish swimming lazily near the surface, practically begging to become lunch. He took off with what he hoped was appropriate eagle grace, soaring upward to gain altitude. "Physics," he thought to himself. "It's all just physics. Angle of attack, velocity, wind resistance... and looking cool while doing it."
His first attempt was less "majestic predator" and more "drunk pelican." He missed the fish by such a wide margin that even the fish seemed embarrassed for him. His mother's head-shake spoke volumes – he'd seen that exact same expression on his human mother's face when he'd tried to cook pasta without water.
The second attempt went marginally better. He actually managed to grab the fish this time, but holding onto a wet, angry fish with talons that were still basically eagle-teenager talons proved challenging. The fish performed an Olympic-worthy wiggle and escaped, probably swimming off to tell its friends about the world's most incompetent eagle.
His father's head-shake joined his mother's, creating a synchronized display of parental disappointment. Kaiser felt his feathers ruffle with determination. He refused to be outsmarted by something that had a three-second memory.
Third time's the charm, they say, and Kaiser channeled all his frustrated eagle energy into this attempt. He soared higher, calculated the angle with his enhanced brain (44 degrees – exactly one degree less than his previous failure), and dove with the precision of a feathered geometry problem.
This time, his talons struck true. The fish didn't even have time for a dramatic last wiggle before Kaiser clamped down, probably using more force than necessary. Fish blood sprayed like a B-grade horror movie prop, which prompted his mother to emit a series of whistles that definitely translated to "We do not play with our food, young man!"
{Skill: Fish Hunting (G-) unlocked}
{Provides slight boost to fishing success, major boost to fish intimidation}
Kaiser landed back on the branch, proud of his catch despite its messiness. His mother's continued whistling suggested he'd be getting lectures about table manners later, but he didn't care. In his previous life, his parents had been too busy climbing corporate ladders to teach him much of anything. Here, his eagle parents spent every day showing him how to survive, thrive, and properly dismember fish.
Sure, he'd made a mess of his first hunt, but he'd succeeded. As he ate his prize (head-first, like a proper eagle), he realized that maybe being reborn as a bird of prey wasn't so bad.
{Bioenergy: +5}
{29/100}
The view was better, the food was fresher, and so far, not a single autonomous vehicle had tried to kill him.
Though he did make a mental note to practice his fish-grabbing technique. Those gray fish were surprisingly slippery, and he had a reputation to maintain now. Can't have the local salmon population spreading rumors about the eagle who couldn't catch his dinner without turning the river red.
After his mother caught a fish in the same manner as his father, they started flying back to their nest. He enjoyed the view as the flew back with setting sun in the background, with that his first day as an Eagle came to an end.