A Cage Could Never
The Barn Owl is an alluring, solitary creature—that brilliant pale face as scintillating as the moon, poppy seed freckles, and abyssal eyes carrying an unblinking gaze. She is a graceful, silent huntress, while I am a cacophonous scavenger who is more comfortable hanging out with a murder than committing one. Often mistaken for my more introverted cousin, many see my presence as an omen of death. Meanwhile, because of her beauty, most who have had the good fortune to catch a glimpse of her do not even consider all the poor rodent babies she has orphaned. She and I may both be birds, but we are certainly an entirely different species.
