I'm Waverly. I live with the Flock, and I'm Iggy's sister. Nope, I'm not a pyromaniac like he is, I have something much more high-class: kleptomania! If you want a big, long introdction, check out my profile. But this is the story of how I met and was convinced to stay with the Flock! Read on, fair, normal, lucky kids of Fanffiction!

"Hello, Miss, may I help you?" The clerk asked in his Australian accent. Everyone there has had an Australian accent, since I was in, you guessed it, Australia.

I whirled around, sure to make sure he didn't see the soon-to-be-stolen diamond behind my back. "Heck no! Why the fudge would I need your help!" I said, slipping the jewel into my back pocket. These stupid humans' 'safe boxes' were so easy to break into.

The guy seemed taken aback. Huffing, he stomped away. What'd I say?

Grinning, I was just about to make my merry way out of the store when those pesky, stalkerish Werewolves (At the lab they were called 'Pencils' or 'Erasers' or something) came in the store. Three of them. They looked around for a second before their eyes landed on me.

Crap! I thought, mind racing. I was in the middle of a big theft, who did they think they were, barging in and ruining it? This could be the chance of a lifetime, getting a high-price diamond from an even higher-security place?

I didn't have time to voice my complaints before the evil supermodels/wolf guys were coming at me, growling as they leapt over displays.

Rolling my eyes, I met the first one with a punch to the jaw. "You guys come at the worst times!" I yelled as he grabbed my fist, stopping it. "I hate you so much, more than…pickles!"

I hooked my flexible leg over his arm that was connected to the hand holding my fist. Kicking his armpit with my shoe (I had installed blades in the toe!), he howled in pain as my knife-shoe passed through his arm, cutting it clean off. He growled, using his other hand to close around my neck.

Choking and breathless, I poked his eyeball with my knuckle like Jeb had showed me. Maybe a little too hard, because then it was hanging by a little red strand. Out of it's socket.

Okay, eww. But where were my other friends, the ones trying to kill me?

Killing shoppers, apparently.

With a chop to the Werewolf's windpipe, I tugged on his ear (did you know it only takes six pounds of force to rip one off?), and he was out! Eleven thousand points for Waverly! Yes, folks, I am just that dang good.

I tackled Ugly (actually, he was gorgeous with dazzling blue eyes and thick honey-colored hair; but you know what I mean) Number Two, but Number Three pulled me off, throwing me against the very hard, very uncushy wall.

They didn't give me time to get up, instead, they came at me. I made a split-second decision: reaching up to the jewelry case, I shattered the 'bullet-proof' glass with my fist, scrabbling for a shard of glass. Alarm bells were ringing like crazy, but that (and people screaming) was pretty easy to ignore.

My hand closed around it, just as Number Three made a whack at the base of my neck. I rolled to the side just in time, all the while stabbing him. Repeatedly. Big, fat drops of warm blood fell on me. He staggered forward, face-planting against the wall.

Looking at the carnage around me, I saw the stupid clerk cowering behind the death. I grinned at him, before flicking Number Two off, and bolting out of the jewelry shop.

I arrived in the dry heat of downtown Sydney. Almost getting run over by a big tourist bus, I had the time to cuss them out before the last Werewolf came charging out of the store.

Jumping into the air, I took off into the air, leaving him stranded there, on the shore.

"Ha!" I shouted behind me as I flapped away, ignoring the screams and stare of normal citizens, "You're too fudging retarded to get wings! You suck!"

Now, am I going too fast for you?

Get used to my life as a run-away bird kid. By myself. Trotting the globe. Stealing stuff.

Yeah. I know it's short, but stupid Fang wants the computer. What do they say, R and R? Whatever the heck that stands for. Anyhoo, just review, 'kay?

(That bleeping Max is proved wrong! I can not swear for a long time!)