My name is Tobias.

Yeah, you’ve heard that before. Sorry. I gotta say it. It’s in my contract or something.

Anyways, my name is Tobias, and I’m your everyday average red-tailed hawk. Except I talk. Telepathically. And shapeshift. And fight aliens. And used to be human.

If you didn’t get the memo, several of your close friends are probably under the complete control of gray alien slugs in their brains. These slugs are not nice people. They like our planet, they like our brains, and they’re here to stay.

That’s why we’re out there. Six of us Animorphs. Kids. Teens. Four humans, and alien, and a hawk—that would be me. The last chance for Mother Earth.

The thing you should know is that everyone is in really big trouble. Yeah. Even you.

Scary, right? I think Jake thought that up.

We fight them with whatever our planet offers. The fangs of tigers and wolves. The paws of bears and the venom of cobras. The stealth of bugs and the wings of birds. And even sometimes with the weapons of their own stolen bodies. We survive. Barely.

Sometimes our power backfires. Like on me. I got careless. I paid for it with my human body, and my morphing ability.

It could have been worse. There are a lot of worse things to be trapped as than a red-tailed hawk. Like a flea. (Yes, I’ve been a flea.) Or a rat. Which is how we left the last guy to double-cross us.

It’s a ruthless war we’re fighting. War is cruel. War makes casualties. Like David. Like me.

But the Ellimist (don’t ask) gave me a second chance. I can morph again. I’m back in the fight for real. I can even be human if I want to. For two hours at a time, anyways.

The temptation is there, of course. There’s not a day goes by I don’t think about it. Two hours and change. One hundred and twenty-one minutes. That’s all I would have to spend in human morph. I’d be myself again. The real me. The me that followed some semi-strangers through a construction site the night it all changed.

Two hours and change. I’d be human, truly human at last.

And I’d never fly again.

But that’s not all it’s about. We’re this planet’s only hope, until either the Andalite fleet or Jesus shows up, and I’m not holding my breath for either. This team needed me even when I couldn’t morph. They need me all the more now.

One hawk? One crazy, angst-ridden hawk is gonna make the difference in this great galactic struggle?

For want of a nail, the shoe was lost. For want of a shoe, the horse was lost. For want of a horse, the battle was lost.

I’m staying feathery. Maybe I’m just a nail, but with what’s ahead, we’re gonna need every damn nail we can find.

- Tobias