The sound of beating wings and the clink of something Kludd couldn't name woke him the next morning. Curious as to the what was making the noise, he stepped to the rim of the hollow and peered out. Then he blinked wide.

There were several Barn Owls flying, and the sound was coming from their talons, which glinted in the light. What are those? Kludd wondered. He'd never seen anything like them. But he matched their description to only one thing: Battle claws! Why were these owls flying clawed? Kludd gave his wings a small flap to give himself a boost to land on the branch outside the hollow, his beak open to call out to the other owls. But he didn't land correctly, and his talons slipped. And so, his wings spread, Kludd flapped to get himself away from the edge, succeeding. But only for a second. He'd thrusted his wings too hard on the last stroke, and, although it had gotten him away from the edge he'd been facing, it pushed him too far in the other direction.

Kludd felt himself scrabbling on the branch; then nothing underneath his talons, and air rushing beneath his outstretched wings. He was falling, falling far. He tried to focus through rising panic. Angling his wings, he managed to catch a few winds, and he tried to use them to guide himself to a branch, or at least to slow his fall. He saw a branch not too far up; He was sure he could get to it. Re-angling his wings again, he gave his wings a few strokes upward. It almost worked perfectly. He stopped falling and lifted himself up a little. Just six strokes, Kludd thought. Just six more, and he'd be at the branch. He flapped again; he was much closer, but his wings were tiring fast. He'd been so close to his first flight, but not just yet. That's it, Kludd thought. All or nothing! He power-stroked, but his wings felt heavy. He fanned them out, not able to reach the branch. He'd just glide to the ground. He'd be fine, and his parents would get him come the night.

That was, indeed, what Kludd thought. But he was in for a surprise - A deadly surprise!