Tawny Owl (Strix aluco)
Other owls fuzz me out. They’re so fixed in their ways. You’ve got to be more flexible than that. Adaptable. Rely on what’s upstairs. Take me, for example. Small tail, short wings — I can fly through the forest or open grass and whether I hunt from a perch or swoop down from the sky doesn’t bother me much at all. That’s a skill. I’m not fussy either: Earthworms in the rain are just as good as mice in the starlight, and I don’t need to soar around the continent from dusk to dawn because I’m smarter than that. When I finally get my claws on a territory, I memorize every inch. Especially where the food is. After all, assets matter. I won’t be giving them up easily.
Long-Eared Owl (Asio otus)
They look like ears but they’re not ears, get it? They’re tufts and the reason for them is secret (although I do use them to impress other owls). Particularly, I like the Macedonian oaks at Ohrid-Prespa, although I wouldn’t waste your time knocking on my tree. When I don’t want to be found, I can camouflage into nothingness and that includes when you come snooping around. Don’t go thinking I’m totally anti-social though: Our long-eared winter gatherings are legendary.