The Journey

I am ashamed of anyone who has eyes and still can't see.

We are the owls of the weather chaw. We take it blistering, We take it all. Roiling boiling gusts, We're the owls with the guts. For blizzards our gizzards Dr tremble with joy. An ice storm, a gale, how we love blinding hail. We fly forward and backward, Upside down and flat. Do we flinch? Do we wail? Do we skitter or scutter? No, we yarp one more pellet And fly straight for the gutter! Do we screech? Do we scream? Do we gurgle? Take pause? Not on your life! For we are the best Of the best of the chaws!

Night is done, gone the moon, gone the stars From the skies. Fades the black of night Comes the morn with rosy light. Fold your wings, go to sleep, Rest your gizzards, Safe you'll be for the day. Glaux is nigh. Far away is first black, But it shall seep back Over field Over flower In the twilight hour. We are home in our tree. We are owls, we are free. As we go, this we know Glaux is nigh.

I am ashamed of anyone who has eyes and still cannot see. (Mrs. Plithiver)

What is a fleecy as a cloud, As majestic and shimmering as the breaking dawn, As gorgeous as the sun the sun is strong? Why, it's ME! Twilight, the Great Gray, Tiger of the sky --- Light of the Night, Most beautiful, An avian delight. I beam --- I gleam --- I'm a livin' flying dream. Watch me roll off this cloud and pop on back. This is flying. I ain't no hack.

We're going to bash them birds, Them rat-feathered birds. Them bad-butt owls ain't never heard 'Bout Gylfie, Soren, Dig, and Twilight Just let them get to feel my bite Their li'l ole gizzards gonna turn to pus And our feathers hardly mussed. Oh, me. Oh, my. They gonna cry. One look at Twilight, They know they're gonna die. I see fear in their eyes And that ain't all. They know that Twilight's got the gall. Gizzard with gall that makes him great And every bad owl gonna turn to bait.

Give me a hot coal glowing bright red, Give me an ember sizzling with heat, These are the jewels made from my beak. We fly between the flames and never get singed We plunge through the smoke and never cringe. The secrets of fire, its strange winds, its rages, We know it all as it rampages Through forests, through canyons, Up hillsides and down. We track it. We'll find it. Take coals by the pound. We'll yarp in the heart of the hottest flame Then bring back its coals an make them tame. For we are the colliers brave and beyond all We are the owls of the colliering chaw!

Hush little owl, You're with Twi. I got the moves to get you by. Big bad crows. St. Aggie's scamps Ain't got nothin to show the champ. I'll pop a spiral With a twist, Do a three-sixty And scatter mist----

He didn't know what he wanted. He only knew what he didn't want.

Far away if first black, But it shall be back Over field Over flower In the twilight hour. We are home in our tree. We are owls, we are free. As we go, this we know Glaux is nigh.

Indeed, nobility is not always found in the flash of battle claws or flying through the embered wakes of firestorms, or even in making strong the weak, mending the broken, vanquishing the proud, or making powerless those who abuse the frail.” Soren’s gizzard grew quiet as Boron spoke. “It is also found in the resolute heart, the gizzard that can withstand the temptations of false dreams, the mind that has the imagination to comprehend another’s pain,

—Night is Done— Night is done, gone the moon, gone the stars From the skies. Fades the black of the night Comes the morn with rosy light. Fold your wings, go to sleep, Rest your gizzards, Safe you’ll be for the day. Glaux is nigh. Far away is First Black, But it shall seep back Over field Over flower In twilight hour. We are home in our tree. We are owls, we are free. As we go, this we know Glaux is nigh.

Soren had been at the Great Ga’Hoole Tree for almost a month,

congregations of owls seemed to be below, along with a hollow that was called a kitchen, from