Every dawn, Linda lost the same fight. They spread all four wings, dark on top and pink beneath, and climbed above the shadowed forest. But the tallest tree already held bigger fliers. Hawks and worse looked down on Linda's skinny frame and six eyes. Linda wanted one thing: the highest perch in the forest, where no wing could hover above them. Tonight the best branch bent under a heavier bird again, and Linda dropped to a lower limb, hating it. Linda studied the treeline until an idea came. The forest could not grow. But a perch could be built taller. Linda needed something long and straight to raise above the canopy. They flew past the tree line, toward the human junkyard, where metal grew in strange shapes. A cyborg worked below, prying panels off a wrecked car. Half his face was a glowing steel plate. His hands ended in tools instead of fingers. He was Gideon, the junkyard man Linda had watched for weeks without ever landing near. Gideon glanced up, unbothered by six eyes staring down. "You want scrap or trouble?" he called. "Both cost the same here. Nothing, if you help lift." Linda landed on a rusted heap. Behind Gideon stood a tall pole, built from mismatched metal sections, wrapped with wire, bristling with thin rods. It reached higher than any tree in the forest. Linda's six eyes fixed on it. Gideon followed the stare. "The old antenna? Dead weight now. I've been meaning to drop it." He tapped a claw against the base. "Too tall to move alone. But four wings might manage what two hands can't." They worked until the sky went gray. Gideon loosened the clamps at the base. Linda gripped the pole with both foot-claws and beat all four wings hard. The metal groaned, tilted, then lifted. Wire trailed like a tail. Linda strained across the sky, the pole swinging beneath them, nearly pulling them down twice. Linda reached the tallest tree and dropped the pole into its highest fork. It stuck fast, wedged deep, rods jutting far above every branch. Linda perched on the very top. The whole forest spread below. No bird flew higher. Every other winged creature now roosted beneath Linda's shadow. But the noise had carried. As light spread, dark shapes rose from the trees. The hawks and the heavier fliers circled, staring at the strange new peak and the skinny bird who had taken the sky from them. Linda had won the highest perch. Now every wing in the forest wanted it back.