Marina careened through the forest, blinded by tears. She was so choked up she could hardly shoot out sound to see by. She flew, narrowly avoiding crashing into trees half-blinded. She flew until her wings were too useless and weak to move. Her rear claws sank into a rain-dampened branch and she hung there, sobs wracking her body. How could she...how could she live without her colony? Without her parents and friends and everyone else? They all just left her and hated her because of a stupid piece of metal!

She finally stopped weeping, but it was mostly only because she had used up all her tears. Her throat was raw and her head pounded painfully. She shuddered and at last closed her eyes just before an orange glimmer of light shone on the horizon.

The young Brightwing woke up freezing. Where was everyone? Why weren't her parents' wings wrapped around her against the algidity of early spring?

Then she felt the cold, sleek metal of the band on her forearm and remembered the night before. They all left her. Her entire colony.

Well, Marina thought bitterly, they can't get rid of me that easily! I'll follow them. Stay hidden. If they don't see me they can't stop me. She would follow them back to the Great Oak.

Marina flared her wings and let go of the cedar branch. She snapped up a few insects before setting out after the Brightwings. She was determined not to lose them.

She went unspotted for several hours. She wove around thick branches in an effort not to be seen and hid in deep crags of bark whenever she thought there might have been even the slightest chance that she had been glimpsed. She was growing more confident by the wingbeat that she would be able to make it all the way back to the summer roost—and this was her downfall.

So sure of herself, she had been less cautious. She was roosting in a clump of pine needles on the end of a branch, hoping that she appeared to be nothing more than a pinecone.

"Get out of here," growled a deep voice behind her. Marina was startled out of her roost and whirled around to face a three burly male Brightwings of her colony. "You're cursed. Get out before you get us all killed." Their eyes were hard and cold as ice and she knew that she had no chance of convincing them of anything. On the verge of more tears, she glared at them and flapped away from the colony. Only when she was far, far away did she let the tears loose once more.

She stared at the band, hating it. Hmm, if she ripped it off, she wouldn't be cursed anymore, would she? She could go back. Baring her fangs, she savagely attacked the shining metal. It didn't budge, she didn't even dent it. A growl built up in her throat. No, she thought in despair, no! It has to come off! Why—wouldn't—it—move!

Marina took off and hunted. Those bugs that evening weren't very filling. With a ferocity born of anger at being abandoned, she was able to catch plenty.

The next night, she came across a colony of Graywings flying back north. Maybe they didn't know about the cursed bands! But as soon as she came near, it only took them one look at her for the entire colony to recoil. The newborns were pushed away from her and the adults formed a protective ring around them.

"Cursed one!" a female shrieked. "Get away! Banded! Freak!"

Everyone was staring at Marina with obvious fear in their eyes. Then they all turned tail and flew. Away from her. Away from the cursed, banded freak.

She met another colony or two, but they all knew about the curse of the Humans. Once, she managed to spend the day with a colony, folding her wings as she roosted just so to hide her band, but as soon as she spread her wings to fly they drove her off.

As she hit the coast, dawn was coming and the birds were beginning to sing. She took cover in a fir tree near a rocky beach from the owls. She couldn't die at the terrible claws of an owl.

The next evening, she thought. The next evening. That's when I'll end it all.