The great nocturnal predator sits aloft with
a commanding view of its forest hunting
grounds, a skilled hunter and the bane of
small furred and feathered forest creatures
alike known for its aural and visual acuity
as well as its silent swoops and taloned
scoops. As efficient in its appetite as in its
hunt leaving but pellets of regurgitated
bone and gristle. Its reputation that of a
feared predator, its studied survey of the
forest floor planning a night's escapade
interrupted by a steadily growing murder
of crows despising and harassing the great
accomplished bird threatening their tender
fledglings. Unperturbed, the owl swivels
its great head to studiously ignore the swirls
of angry black wings silhouetted against
grey clouds above the forest canopy, their
outraged concert of condemnation to no
avail for dusk soon enters and night follows.
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