Presently , the stories of Wizzy The Great Horned Owl,are coming forward for review as I am working on a drama and storytelling night. Some of my readers may know these stories but for the sake of review and preparation I’m reblogging the stories so far in the hope it will generate inspiration. Owl hope it does anyway.
All I have to do, thought Wizzy, is just sit here on this branch and not be sick, or fall off or… die. Wizzy had indulged in something she knew was bad for her, toxic as it turned out. She had guzzled too many over ripe mulberries and was dearly paying the price. She also faintly remembered inhaling the smoke from a burn pile of suspicious weeds as she dizzily flew out of her Territory, due south as the crow flies. Painfully opening one eye she found herself confronted by an ancient eagle staring at her with steely eyes. Through intuitive communication and without quotation marks she immediately read his mind and responded in kind. So sorry, excuse me half hooted and croaked Wizzy. Please just give me a minute and I’ll be on my way. The elegant and imposing eagle said nothing but continued to stare. He was used to outsiders showing up unannounced.
After some time…
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