You open your wings and glide through the door with practiced
ease, landing on a tree branch just outside the enclosure so you
can get your bearings.
And just like that, you aren't inside the habitat anymore.
For days - weeks? months? - you had frittered away countless
hours within this same place, viewing the same views, perching
on the same perches. And now you're out, surveying the exterior
of the habitat with avian eyes for the first time (your handlers had
always hooded you before, of course). The sight is so simple -
the view from the outside - and yet so monumental.
Part of you wants to soar upwards at once, to ride high into the
clouds at last, and taste absolute freedom... but what if you'll be
soaring away from your chances of ever being human again?
And in fact, another part of you - to your surprise - just wants to
go back and get that easy mouse, and to resume defending...
your... territory.
Your mind races as you think of what to do next... staff members
wander around checking the exhibits regularly, and one will
probably be coming by soon!