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Summer came to an end. Leaves became brown and dwindled to the ground, covering the forest floor with a messy carpet. Rain became more common than sun, and grey clouds appeared more often than the cheerful blue of the sky. The weather changed for the worse, and so did Charlie's state of mind.

Where before he had been gloomy and doomy, there were days now where he would do nothing but growl and grumble if he did not meet his ever-rising standards. Sure, he remained with the eagles, and the eagles remained as supportive and positive as they could, but neither of the three was very happy. They were worried when Charlie would skip a meal because he thought he hadn't tracked his prey fast enough, or when he would leave them for a whole day (and sometimes longer) to go run a gruelling marathon. Charlie, in turn, had trouble getting to sleep.

As autumn matured, Charlie grew even more restless. He thought he could never become who he wanted to be living with the eagles. On the other paw, the eagles were good for him. Deep inside his heart of steel, there was a tiny little corner where gratitude shone a weak light, which made him realise leaving them was not right. This devilish dilemma ravaged his heart like two wolves fighting for prey. He had to make a move.

One day, a solution came to him. He was sitting on a rocky plateau, while his eagle guardians were fishing. The eagles would soar high into the sky, looking down from time to time to scan the river for prey. Then, once they had spotted one, they dived down at breakneck speed. Their talons shimmered in the afternoon light as they opened them. SNATCH! SPLASH! Breakfast was theirs.

This is it! Charlie thought to himself. The spectacle of the eagles' fishing awakened memories of his first encounter with them back in winter, and the story they had told him. His new idea came floating on the stream of memory like the eagles floating on the wind. I don't have to leave them; I just have to prove myself another way. Only this time, he thought, he had to do it completely by himself. It was the only way to truly make the eagles (and maybe even himself) proud.

So Charlie set out to make preparations. He went back to the nest, saying that he was planning to tidy up, and gathered as many discarded feathers as he could. However, most of those were fluffy down feathers, and of the bigger and sturdier feathers there were too few. He hid them underneath the nest and continued brooding on his plan.

Chuck and Hazel did not suspect anything at all. In fact, they were very grateful to Charlie for keeping the nest nice and tidy, and glad to see his demeanour had improved a little. Charlie simply smiled back and kept collecting feathers. This went on for another few weeks, until finally, he felt like he had enough to make his miracle happen.

On a sunny, cloudless day, while his eagle guardians were out fishing as usual, he gathered up the feathers and entered the forest to find some pines. He used pine resin as glue, and a clear stream as a mirror. It took him an eternity to glue all the feathers to his fur, tail, and paws, but the result satisfied him greatly. I can hardly see the difference, he thought, watching his reflection in the stream. Not a wolf, but a genuine eagle smiled back at him. He moved his forepaws up and down, feeling the wind brush against his "wings." This should do the trick!

_ _

Charlie scrambled up the cliffside again until he reached the nest. He hesitated for a second, balancing on the rim. Far down below, the tips of the pine-trees looked like spikes, waving menacingly in the wind. Charlie gulped, yet he took comfort in the fine weather conditions. The wind was strong but not overwhelming. Visibility was good. The skies were clear. When he strained his eyes, he could even spot two brown specks riding the wind some way away. Good, Charlie thought. With a little luck, the eagles would be able to spot him, to witness the bravery and majesty of his first flight as an eagle-wolf. He could not have picked a better day for his first flight.

It's now or never!

_ _

Charlie jumped.

His "flight" lasted for half a second before turning into a fall. No matter how hard he flapped his makeshift wings, Charlie could not gain altitude. He screamed. The wind howled past his ears, and he felt like it would tear them right off. Instead, one of his wings tore off, taking a good portion of his fur with it. Charlie yelled in pain while he started spinning around his axis. Panic mixed with regret and guilt. Once again he had bitten off more than he could chew. He squinted is eyes shut, waiting for his inevitable fate.

Suddenly, it all stopped. A shock went through his body. He had hit a rock, he thought, or maybe he had slammed into a pine branch down below. Then Charlie had the strange sensation of gliding upward. Surely he had died, and he was floating up towards the eternal hunting grounds. What other explanation could there be?

'Don't worry, little dude. I got ya!'

Finally, Charlie dared to open his eyes. Down below, the spikey pines grew smaller and smaller, until they were nothing more than toothpicks. Looking up, he could see Chuck, huffing and puffing as he struggled to climb the air with his heavy load.

'You've certainly... grown... a lot... haven't ya?' he said between panting bursts of breath. Chuck's wingbeats became slower and slower, as he began losing altitude.

'Gosh, you're out of shape!' His wife said, swooping to the scene as well. 'Why not put him down on the ground? I think that's a much better idea.'

'Oh, right...'

Chuck stopped beating his wings. He swooped down and landed at the foot of the mountain. Still a bit shaky, Charlie felt solid ground under his paws again.

Immediately, Hazel landed next to him on the flat, rocky outcropping and asked, 'Are you hurt, Charlie?'

But Charlie couldn't meet her gaze. The adrenaline had been carried away by the wind, and now only regret and shame remained. The feeling he was most devastated by, however, was a feeling of failure. 'H-how did you know?' Charlie managed to cram out of his muzzle.

'We saw you trudging up the mountain in that feathery coat of yours.' Chuck nudged the one remaining wing. 'Eagle eyes, remember?'

'At first we thought you were gonna do something cute,' added Hazel. 'And you did look cute, up until the moment you decided to jump off the cliff.'

A tear dripped down from Charlie's muzzle, followed by many more. 'I just... I just wanted to...'

'We know,' said Hazel. 'But you didn't have to.'

'Jeez, you really are stuck inside your own prison in your head, aren't ya, little rascal?' Chuck said, trying to lighten the mood a little bit but failing miserably.

Charlie kept sobbing more and more. His feelings did not let him go, and he got sucked away completely into the prison inside his own mind. He hadn't managed to prove himself to his family, his eagle guardians, or even to himself. He felt as if he had let down the entire world, and was no longer a part of it. He was a little wolf again, floating on a little island inside a little bubble. Far away on the shore, his eagle guardians were talking to him, gesturing to him, expressing their friendship and love, but he could neither see nor hear them. Charlie had become blind and deaf.

That is, until a voice, familiar yet a little bit new as well, called out, 'Charlie? Is that you?!'