on owl(s)

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The cold nibbles at me with its razor-sharp teeth—the air rushing out of my lungs as I exhale, adjusting myself as the wind tugs at me.

The shifting line of ebony and emerald beside the lake reaches out, branches shining under the moonlight. Soft hoots echo through the silence as a creature with large eyes and feathers—as snowy as the soft light that the pearl that rests in the sky emits—emerges, a dark shape that flickers at the edge of my vision. It ducks between the dark, towering trees, searching for a midnight snack.

I hum absentmindedly, watching as the owl re-emerges with a writhing shape clasped in its claws, and dives towards me—a projectile of feathers and claws—coming to rest perfectly on the ground in front of me as it snacks on the rodent it had caught.

I snorted.

"Show off."

The owl rolls its eyes, and snarks back with a snap of its beak.

"Right, because I totally understand whatever you just...conveyed," I gesture at the owl impassively, raking my eyes over the owl to ensure it isn't hurt.

The owl rolls its eyes again—really, is that even good for owl eyes?—and replies with a hiss.

"Okay, yeah, I know. We should get started."

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