Scary: watched Owl's of Ga'hoole, read all of the books and even drawn fan art for it. My love for this somehow collided with my love for 'BBC Sherlock' which at first only started with this thought, 'Benedict Cumberpatch's voice from a dragon would be epic but what if from an owl…?' and then, 'What type of owl would he be?' 'What type of owl would John be?'

And so the madness began. AND THERE IS NO GOING BACK!

I have pages, of info and reference pictures for all of them…I'm only writing this for fun btw, I have no beta or editor but I'll try my best.

Owls mentioned/ or seen in this chapter.

John: (Micrathene whitneyi) Elf owl. (LOL great things come in small packages, as the saying goes)

Harriett aka Harry: (Micrathene whitneyi) elf owl

Claire: (Micrathene whitneyi) elf owl

Mike: (Speotyto cunicularius)Burrowing owl.

Sally: (Otus trichpsis) Screech Owl

Sebastian: (Parabuteo unicinctus) Harris Hawk

OC owls

Andiron: (Bubo scandiacus) Snowy owl

Chapter One: The fall of the defenders.

It was utter hagsmire.

The battle was sickening, it was not glorious. John fluttered wearily onwards with no end near – his battle claws that once glinted was stained with the blood of the 'pure ones' as they called themselves; the sheer idea that some owls are purer then others was utter rac-drops John had thought. A snowy owl cut though the air near John with it's almost pure white wings; slashing at the breast of the attacking Tyto, redness soaked it's feathers – in a state of shock, it did only to take another raking of the snowy owls talons for it to plummet to the ground.

'John, are you alright?' The Snowy owl questioned, its greater size compared to Johns once intimidated the blond and brown feathered elf owl but flying and fighting along side of the snowy made them the closest of friends. The Pure ones they were fighting were barely fledged, they seemed to still be owlets that didn't know any better – most fled at the first sign of the group of mixed owls standing to fight for their homes and families; some though, the older and the far more foolish stood their ground and let out their battle shrieks – extending their talons, covered in battle claws that they hardly knew how to use.

John didn't think it was out of bravery, more out of fear of what the Pure Ones would do to them if they flew off.

'Yes, just feel sick to my gizzard…'John sighed, staring at the retreating owls and then to his own talons - rusted and sticky with blood.

'We just have to hold them off till the guardians come' the snowy said lowly his eyes glinting in the pale moonlight, staring at the elf owl in empathy and understanding. The snowys name was Andiron and while he was no guardian (in fact, before this he was a gizzard resister and against battle) he sure had a heart and gizzard of one.

'They won't come!' Another owl cried being the pessimistic one in the group muttering of disaster, a long legged burrowing owl called Mike flapped tiredly next to John; not used to so much flight in one night looking wistfully towards the ground. John and Mike were roughly around the same size but John was the far stronger flier and fighter when it came to close combat, Mike had more brownish plumage to Johns blond and on his small wings were speckles of white.

'Glaux, your beak flapping is frinking me off!' A screech owl muttered, one of the few females of the group and possibly the angriest of all of them, all the time. Brown and white plumage and two tufts on her head that looked like ears, she hovered behind them – head turning sharply tracking any sounds of nosy wing beats that the Pure Ones possessed, one focusing on speed rather than silence that other owls often used.

'Sally…' Andiron started warningly but even that wouldn't stop the owl from speaking her mind.

'Andiron lets face it the only real fighters are you and me – we shouldn't have this-this healer and ground dweller in our squadron!' Sally spat glaring at the two smaller owls, 'Glaux, we're lucky we haven't meet any really challenge or these two would be talon fodder' she finished with a huff, dismissing them with an upturned beak.

John narrowed his eyes at the screech owl, and was tempted to charge at her with talons raised – but he didn't, but Glaux, did he want too.

'Yeah, John, she's right…we don't stand a chance' Mike admitted, his wing beats becoming weaker and he seemed even smaller then normal – he wilfed at Sally's words probably, wilfing was something that owls did when frightened or if they want to appear smaller.

'Mike, if you want to leave I won't hold it against you, you tried your best and that's only what we all can do' Andiron said calmly, his snowy white feathers made him seem even scroom-like (that fact alone, and the sheer fearsome gleam in his eyes made a few of the Pure One recruits go yeep at the sight of him)

'If you're sure…' Mike said, trying to mask his relief.

'We're sure' Sally said snidely.

Mike turned and about to bank to the side, but he paused and looked to John.

'Are you coming?'

'No, Mike-I'll see you later' John clicked his beak and Mike looked like he wanted to say something but he only whispered, 'yeah, see you later…' almost as though he didn't believe he would see John later.

Mike soon disappeared below them, Sally stared at the retreating burrowing owl and then with a look of derision towards John.

'Aren't you going to join your little friend?'

'No, I'm going to fight till the guardians come; it is only what any decent owl of any kind will do' John then said, fury dripping on every word, 'And Sally, it not about your size but the size of your gizzard and spirit that counts!' The rest of the owls, in their group cheered at that statement and Sally only smouldered like a bonk coal.

'Hear, hear John!' Andiron cheered. The night skies were clear and it is as though they won the battle, but with the sound of distant wings in the distance made all the owls' wilf except for Andiron and John, afraid of nothing – neither having a family or mate to fight for they were here to fight for themselves and owl kind. Hushed voices muttered throughout the group, some wearing battle claws others just fighting with short talon swords, ice picks, ice swords. They all hovered nervously, not insisting on a frontal attack against an unknown enemy.

'What's that?'

'That's not the sound of owl's wings'

'Or owls for that matter'

'Steady everyone!' Andiron and then said hushed to John with twinkling eyes, 'The suspense is exciting, isn't it John?'

'Yes, it is…' John whispered back, gizzard quivering in the excitement. Keeping up with the snowy's wing beats seemed to become easier as though filled with a new strength.

When a dark creature flapped towards them, small in appearance to Andiron they first only saw the bird, a Harris Hawk, its black plumage made it almost difficult to see in the night even with the owls sharp eyesight, only the orange-brown on it's start of his wings made him visible. The orange brown eyes glinted and shined like cat eyes in the moonlight.

'A Harris hawk?'

'What is it doing at night?'

'Perhaps the Pure Ones aren't just getting tyto's to do their dirty work anymore' One owl churred, a sound of an owl laughing is different to say the least, his fellows glared at him.

'They call Harris hawks the "wolves of the sky", they hunt in packs…'

'Who cares? Pure One or not, we can take a hawk on!' Sally screeched, some of the fellows agreeing with her in various calls of their species

'Let's attack Andiron' Sally called, almost pleading – thirsting for a fight, a better fight.

'Wait' Andiron said, staring at the hawk; the hawk powered towards them with determined wings.

'What in hagmire for?'

'The hawk hasn't played his talons yet…a fool heads into battle blind, a smart owl heads into battle with their eyes wide open' Andiron muttered, his second eyelid blinked over his eyes. Maybe it was his calm, and his leadership that stopped the nervous twittering doubt in a course of action; John was wrong, Andiron was a Guardian of Ga'hoole on the inside and outside as well.

Sally wilfed at that, and with a click shut her beak; a reprise from her grating voice was relief to most.

As the moon dwenked in the sky, behind the hawk was a vast, writhing shadow of blackness, some of the defenders went yeep at the very sight, thinking it to be the evil boiling over from hagsmire it self – they were saved quickly by their diving companions, righting them as they regained altitude heaving in fear, most looking like they just yarped a pellet.

John felt fear, excitement as he tensed his talons, battle claws still sharp and ready – all the others around him did the same; trying to not look as scared as they all were.

'So, the recruits were only talon fodder-how malicious, a distraction till they got the true fighters here' Sally finally spoke, or more like spat, 'Those tyto's make me sick'

The hawk let loose a shrill cry, as the shadows behind him became more formed, more leathery wings and with thousands of the beady red eyes.

The bats were here, but that was not the only danger but it was the hawk had battle claws of his on, tipped with a bonk coal; causing burning death to anyone who flied too close. It was only minutes when the cloud of bats was upon the defenders and the hawk just blended in the sea of black.

John was fighting for his life, he gauged at the fanged faces that appeared before him in wild abandon, allies were next to him but then disappeared again – the blood lusting cries of the bats drowned out any other sound so John felt like he was all alone, lost in the darkness.

John was barged and clawed at, it was only when a flash silver came hurtling towards him that, with a parry with his battle claws sparks flew – the wing blade of a bats grinded against his battle claws with a horrible sound.

The stunned bat – confused why John was still alive was frozen in shock when John, with a twist in the air; slit the flying rodents' throat, dark blood, almost tarry spilled down and then plummeted down away from the fight right back to hagmire from whence it came.

John's victory was however short lived as he turned his head sharply up, from above came the snarling hawk, talons a blazing – smaller than most owls but larger then John, it was only then John realised what had occurred. John could see that the hawk used the bats as a distraction, then going in and taking the owls out one by one.

Feathers of the defenders probably littered the ground, John was thankful that he couldn't see what happened to those unlucky to be caught by the hawk – also thankful that no snowy owl feathers joined in the rain of bloody feathers.

John tried to dodge, and to get to a weak spot – it's chest, its face or its wings would be the good choice – and avoid those burning talons. It was though the bats were swirling around them like a tornado and John and the hawk were stuck in the eye; they circled each other neither able to get close enough to hurt the other, John felt his heart and gizzard racing. The hawk tilted his head to the side, a smirk played at his beak-one of self satisfaction.

'Can't believe it, you can fit into my talons you know-what are you an owlet?' The hawk said patronising.

'For Glaux sake, I'm an elf owl!' John yelled back, he had heard all the jokes associated with his size.

'So you're saying this is your full grown size? You're so…tiny' the hawk said dumbfounded.

'Oh frink off!' John snarled, 'Why are you hanging with the pure ones anyway? Your not even a owl, your just a wet pooper!' John charged at the hawk, but the hawk dodged skilfully.

'Wow, never thought something so small could have such a dirty beak' the hawk blinked at him, and John thought he saw a gleam of admiration. John didn't want it, especially from a murderer.

'What's your name elf owl?' The hawk asked.

'What's yours, so I know what to write on the ditch I burn you in' John dodged in the air as he said it, pushing himself higher so he was above the hawk. The gold, orange eyes stared at him in amusement.

The hawk grinned and slowed his wing beats almost lazily.

'He calls me Sebastian'

'Whose "he"?'

'None of your concern, a name for a name that's how we play this game'

'…John'

'I like it. The elf owl John – suits you' Sebastian laughed, like the owls churr except more uneven and harsh, 'Sadly, John these fellows I'm with want a show' Sebastian sighed looking at the hissing mass of bats around them.

Sebastian said then, 'I wonder if I can truly fit you in my talons…I wonder'

Then he took John by surprise with outstretched talons, tips red hot and smoking,

The hawk was about to make a grab for him, burn him alive, a hungry look in the hawks face.

John realised with sickness raising, was that the hawk called Sebastian plucked the others alive, the blood left on the hawks beak was proof of that much, Sebastian however was going to cook him with his feathers on when those fire claws clasped onto him.

It was a flash of white though, that broke though the wall of bats; John thought it was a scroom he was so shocked that he was going to go yeep – the body of white charged into John knocking the smaller owl away – John was stunned, only when the fire claws severed off the scrooms head and the lush red blood flowed down the beautiful whiteness of that body and the disgusting scowl on Sebastian's face was when John found his voice again.

That was no scroom.

'ANDIRON!' John screamed, the disembodied head plummeted down to the ground, Sebastian however had a firm grip on the body. Sebastian smirked at it and then at John.

'Nice meeting you John' the hawk called, letting go of his grip watching with sick satisfaction it plummet to the ground. Sebastian stared at his body talon and then at John, 'Well that was a show!'

The bats got closer and closer, with that cruel laugh Sebastian was gone again, hiding among the black – John was going to go yeep, gizzard lurching he was feeling ill; the bats surrounded him with there leather wings and noise, John just closed his eyes, a sharp pain from his left wing was felt but he still didn't open his eyes – John just stoped flying, and the air rushed around him as he got closer to meet the ground.

John's wide eyes took in his surroundings – not remembering where he was at the moment, dazed as he snapped back to the present. A small hollow in a weak little tree, the nest of his sister if the smell of bingle juice is anything to go by; Harry was fast asleep probably sleeping off the blasted stuff.

He looked outside, taking deep intakes as he stretched his wings – the knotted scar on his left wing ached slightly, the scar had finally healed over but the featherless mark against his person was obvious to every owl was that he was in a battle.

No female wanted to have a mate that had difficultly flying and what kind of father would he make if he couldn't hunt for his owlets? He is unmated therefore and what made it sadder was that he was staying with his drunken sister, Harry wasn't always like this – she had a hollow-mate called Clara, a elf owl like them, but both of them got into a fight and Clara left; Harry wallowing in the bingle juice by her lonesome till her maimed brother came into her care.

'John…?' Harry questioned sleepily, it was night though – sleeping off her drink more like it.

'I can't stay here Harry' John said, 'I need to find a different hollow'

'What, you leaving me?' Harry twisted her beak in a horrid snarl , eyes blazing in drunken fury.

'Harry I'm not leaving you' John said, he would still visit but he couldn't watch as his own sister kill herself.

'Yes you are! You think any female would take you as a mate, rac-drops – just frink off…I don't need you…' Harry slurred and fell asleep again just as quickly as her outburst, John sighed and with a outstretched talon picked up a sling of snake skin (from a rattle snake that Harry once hunted and killed) – most owls knew how to make simple items such as slings, and if you were a blacksmith you could even make even more things – John didn't feel to bad taking this from Harry though, she only used it to carry bingle juice from the grog trees she flew to.

John looked at her one last time, and then hopped out of the hollow perching on the thin branch, he hopped a bit on it, trying to push him up in the air; thankfully they were in a area with raising heat thermals and with a leap he was flying – not as strong as he used to, favouring his uninjured wing better which made his flight pattern uneven, and the need to have regular rests so his wings didn't lock up in mid-flight.

John did not look back only ahead flying towards the large moon glowing in fount of him, riding the thermals with soft wing beats – tomorrow will be a new day.

TBC?

Scary princess: You like? Are you interested? Please review: D yes, I use lots of words used in the books but if you are confused by any of the words just drop a line. It felt odd to use owl swear words btw, I giggled when John called Sebastian a 'wet pooper' lol. This originally was going to be a 'prologue' but it became too long.