Scars to your Beautiful

Mutant Cutefalcon opened his eyes for the first time, and the darted about, eager to explore this curious new world they had found themselves in. They focused on several figures in the light of the nest who appeared to be talking to each other. Mutant stared at them curiously and cocked his head. What were they talking about? Mutant was only a newborn, so he of course had no idea what was going on at all, but he sensed that it wasn't good. He peeked out from the branches that he seemed to be covered in, and saw the sight of three falcons talking vigorously. Each of them seemed like they were about to go into hysteria. A female was trying to calm two males down. Mutant's mother, trying to calm down his father and twin brother. Mutant watched them argue and became more and more unsettled with each remark until he heard one that would change his life:

"HE'S NOT NORMAL!"

Mutant didn't like this sentence one bit. He didn't know what it meant, but he felt a sickening feeling when he heard his father utter it.

"I don't care, he's my baby and I will love him no matter what. I think he looks beautiful!"

Mutant's large eyes watched his mother's mouth move as the uttered the word. Beautiful. Mutant liked that word. He thought of it over and over again in his little head, pondering what it might mean and why he liked it so much. He wanted to hear it again. He open his beak to squawk when he heard his brother.

"Mama, why doesn't he have any feathers?"

What is feathers? thought Mutant. He began to feel a sense of dread. He suddenly turned his gaze to himself, and was devastated by what he saw.

A featherless, flightless, peregrine falcon.

Mutant fell back into his nest in shock. He looked at himself in terror. He knew what was wrong with him. He was worthless. He couldn't fly, and he was as ugly as a shrivled up fruit. He began to feel tears fall down his face. He screeched in terror when he felt them, for he didn't know what they were, or whether they hurt him or not. He sobbed hard as a figure rushed towards him and grabbed him, cradling him and comforting him until he fell asleep.

Two years later

Mutant cautiously hopped down from his tree and onto the ground. He began to pick up sticks in his beak as to give them to his mother and father. They would need them to build more nests.