(I've written several books before, but I'm writing this a little differently than those ones. I'm going to by writing this one by just using ideas from the top of my head. I'm not going to think about the story, I'm just going to type. If you don't like my story, at least tell my in a review.)
Silent Night
The night was very dark. There was no moon for a new one was getting ready to appear later. Only the stars dotted the black, inky sky and those gave off little light. Everything was very still. There was no wind to disturb the thick forest and, with no moonlight, there was nothing to scare away the dark shadows. There seemed to be no life at all. Nothing.
But there was.
Deep within a thick Oak tree was a Great Gray owl. She was completely still; only the rising and falling of her chest giving away that she was alive. Even her eyes were closed. Something was wrong. She could sense it deep in her gizzard. Something was terribly wrong.
"Griselda, come inside with me, what are you doing out here?" A familiar voice made Griselda open a single eye; the yellow brightness of it seeming to radiate light.
It was her mate, Smoke, coming back from hunting. With a silent tilt of his wings, the male Great Gray settled down next to Griselda; a thick, juicy mouse held between his talons.
"Something is wrong, Smoke." Griselda's voice was grave, as if something inside of her were dying. "Something is very, very wrong…." Her voice faded and she closed her eye once again.
Smoke stared at his mate with concerned, yellow eyes and blinked. There was a long silence as Smoke waited for Griselda to say something more, but she didn't. She said nothing.
"Come Griselda, share this mouse with me. You must ease your mind and rest."
"No Smoke. I cannot rest. I cannot eat. I must wait."
"Wait for what?" Smoke was growing more concerned by the moment.
"For a sign."
And surely a sign came.
A movement high above caught Smoke's eye and he glanced up, gasping. Griselda, too, looked up and her beak dropped opened.
About twenty or so Barn Owls were flying forth to an unknown destination. Their wing beats were silent as they moved flawlessly through the air; their eyes directed forward. This made Griselda's gizzard quiver and Smoke's heart race. There was a long silence as the two watched the Barn Owls head off and both Great Grays glanced at each other. The same question ran through their minds.
What were the last of the Pure Ones doing here?