============================================= I throw myself into research over the next few days, first searching up lists of every creature that could fit the description I’ve got: Large, fluffy wings, broad and silent, acute hearing and possibly nightsi- My head snaps up, a piece of slim-jim halfway to my mouth (I must have food while I work this hard). *Aha*. I’m an owl. But what kind? I search up the names of every owl species in the world and look up photos of each to see if any trigger a reaction. Eurasian eagle owl? Nope. Scops owl? Nope. Snowy owl? Still no. Bay owl? Wait a second. Wings flicker on my back, and I can see clearly in my mind’s eye dark russet-brown feathers ringing a snowy-white, heart-shaped face. Not a bay owl - something more obvious, in fact. A barn owl. CELEBRATORY SNACK TIME!!!!!!! I stuff the slim-jim into my mouth and grab the giant, fresh bag of Lays my parents set out each week for my after-school snack. Sorry, I meant: The now half-empty bag of Lays that my parents never foresaw my demolishment of. * * * Everyone’s (as in, my old friends) been cold to me all week, shoving me aside in hallways and acting as though I’m not there. Today, I couldn’t care less. After my kinfirming and snack spree last night, I’m full of energy. I jaunt through the hallways and my classes, and one of my teachers asks, “What’s gotten into you today?” I just smile idiotically at her. My happiness fades after school, though, when Sam asks me why I’m so happy now. “I mean, I’m happy that you’re happy,” he says, grinning through his gray fox mask. “But I feel like there’s a reason for it. A *specific* reason.” “You’re right,” I say, and hesitate. Should I tell him? …Would he believe me? =============================================
Next TN inside, as usual.
