It turned out that snuggling with feathers was really nice.

In the sun-drenched days that followed, Maui taught Moana all there was to know about flying: the thrill of diving from miles high, how one could sail on wind currents for hours without a flick of a wing, the euphoric high that came from racing through the hazard-ridden canopy of island jungles. They spent long, quiet hours just watching sunsets or sunrises, or preening and snoozing as the day wasted away, the peace of an avian existence settling upon Moana like a comfortable blanket.

Eventually, instinct found them and they even made that fight.

…...

"And what is that?"

The eggs, which had taken most of the morning to hatch, now lay in shards at the bottom of the nest. The first two chicks were bulgy-eyed, gangly, naked monstrosities – beautiful in the eyes of hawk parents.

Out of the third egg popped Tamar – small and cockeyed with a funny sprig of down feathers curling from his head.

"He's special," said Moana. "I like him."

Maui pulled the best face a hawk father could. "He certainly reminds me of someone; a certain fowl fellow, no, wait, a 'boat-snack' I know." When Moana rolled her eyes at him, he fluffed up with indignation at her disdain of his witticism. "Well, we'll just say he gets it from your side of the family." With that, he launched himself from the nest to find the kids some breakfast.

…...

It had been raining for days when the mudslide happened. It wiped out a whole section of the small island: beaches, jungle, trees, nest…

Tamar, who oddly tended to sleep on top of his mother rather than under her, was the only one of the nestlings to survive.

Maui was inconsolable. He spent a lot of time for a while staring at the ocean.

Moana tucked Tamar in a safe place and went to sit beside him one day.

"If I hadn't stuck us in this stupid time warp, I could bring them back," he said.

"If we weren't here, they never would have existed at all." Moana reminded him.

Being human, she realized, gave her a different concept of mortality. She had seen enough life and death, even at her young age, to understand that one had to find a way through tragedy to keep on living. Otherwise, one didn't live at all. Heartbroken though she was at the loss of their small family, there was still Tamar. Also, Maui and her were still here together. They had to see this through no matter what.

"You did this for me-" she said to Maui, "-but in a way, I think you did it for you too."

"What? You don't think a thousand years alone on a small island was good for me?" There was almost no humor in his voice, but Moana thought she saw a slight twinkle in his bright, hawk eye.