Lost Tales of Ga'Hoole

gone out to hunt. Prey was often hard to find here, and the brothers knew they would have to get started early. It was springtime, and many of the Burrowing Owl families in the desert were sitting eggs and hatching chicks,so there was a quite a bit of competition for food. But with any luck, Tavis and Cletus would find a nice plump pocket gopher—a desert delicacy.
    As Cletus flew toward their usual hunting grounds, he spotted Saul, one of his Burrowing Owl neighbors. He was standing guard near his hollow. Cletus knew that this must mean Saul’s mate, Trixie, had laid a clutch of eggs. It was customary for male Burrowing Owls to stand guard during the day as the females sat their eggs. Soon, Saul would also be on the hunt for food to bring back to the burrow.
    Saul and Trixie had been Tavis and Cletus’s first friends in the desert. They were very kind to the two Great Grays when they first arrived in Kuneer. They taught them the ways of desert living—how to find water in succulent cacti, how to hunt without the cover of trees, and how to clean their feathers by rolling in the sand. Cletus was reminded that if it had not been for Saul and Trixie, he and Tavis might have never been able to make a home for themselves here. He and Saul exchanged nods in polite greeting as Cletus flew on.
    In his usual hunting ground, not far from his burrow, Cletus’s brother Tavis was perched atop a tall cactus, sitting and waiting. Had he been in a forest, he would have been hidden from view by branches and leaves. But out here in the desert, he relied on being very still to avoid being seen by prey. He spotted a small burrow not twenty pytes away. It was a new burrow, he was sure it hadn’t been there yesterday. There’s gotta be a pocket gopher in there, he thought hungrily. Tavis and Cletus knew that no owl in his right mind would dig a burrow so close to an occupied burrow. Everyone around here prized their privacy. It had to be a prey animal.
    Just then, Tavis heard a soft rustle. He looked toward the entrance of the burrow and saw the slightest movement. A small brown head poked out of the burrow, just above the surface of the sand. Gotcha now, tasty! Tavis crouched down ever so slightly and lifted off from his perch. He flew low to the ground with silent, slow wing beats. He extended his talons, ready to make the kill. Great Grays prided themselves on killing their prey with a single, powerful strike of their talons. When they were hatchlings and just learning to hunt, Tavis and Cletus had always been taught never to cause suffering. So, it was with a single-minded intent to kill that Tavis dove for the burrow.
    Tavis was suddenly derailed when he heard a loud screech.
    “OOOWL!”
    The brown head quickly retreated back into its burrow. Tavis retracted his talons. But he had been flying in so fast that it made him lose his balance in midair. He landed face-first in the sand with a muffled thud.
    “Sorry, brother.”
    It was Cletus.
    Tavis stood himself up, more than a little peeved.
    “That was an owl there in that burrow,” Cletus said as Tavis dusted himself off. “Couldn’t let you kill an owl.”
    “I thought it was a pocket gopher,” Tavis grumbled. “Since when does an owl dig a burrow this close to ours? That just ain’t right.”
    “Shh, here he comes.”
    The occupant of the burrow in question poked his head out again. Indeed, it was not a gopher of any kind, it was a Burrowing Owl. And this Burrowing Owl looked none too pleased to see Tavis and Cletus.
    Cletus, always the neighborly owl, decided he would make the introductions.
    “Hi there,” he began. “Sorry about that. My brother here thought you were a pocket gopher.”
    “Yeah, sorry,” Tavis added. “Not that you look anything like a pocket gopher now that I’m getting a good look at ya. It was hard to see, what with the setting sun and all. We didn’t know you had dug this burrow.”
    The Burrowing Owl stared at the two Great Grays angrily and said nothing.
    “I’m Cletus, and this is my brother Tavis,” Cletus continued. “We live in a burrow just over there.” He gestured toward their burrow.
    There was another long, awkward pause.
    “I didn’t scare you, did I?” Tavis asked, tilting his head sheepishly.
    The Burrowing Owl shot Tavis a look that told him he wasn’t the type to scare easily. Finally, he opened his beak. “Well, Cletus, Tavis, I trust you’ll know next time that I’m not some sort of prey animal.” And