A Guide Book to the Great Tree by Kathryn Huang Page B

discomfort. “Well, you’re young, you’ll have plenty of time to worry about finding a mate.”
    Just then, two of Lyze’s buddies from his unit landed on a neighboring branch, a Great Gray named Loki and a Northern Saw-whet named Blix. They made quite a pair—Blix’s entire body was smaller than half of Loki’s facial disk.
    â€œAhoy! You must be Ifghar.”
    â€œAnd you must be Blix. Your prowess with ice splinters is well-known, even on my side of the bay.” I spoke the truth. I had heard some amazing tales about the little owl. He had suffered a wound in the Battle of Firthvir, and was given commendations for bravery.
    â€œOh, no, that’s nothing. My main job in the field these days is to inspect the ice weapons and battle claws to make sure they’re up to snuff.”
    I liked this humble owl.
    â€œWhooo-ooo-ooo,” said the Great Gray, “and what has your brother told you about me? Chicklet? Chickbean? What is it that Lyze here calls you?” Loki churred.
    â€œMy name is Ifghar,” I said crossly. “And he has only told me that his friend Loki was a big Great Gray.” I wish Lyze hadn’t told them about the Chickpea thing. It was fine between the two of us, endearing even. But who would respect me as a commander with a nickname like Chickpea?
    â€œGive it a blow. I was just being friendly, Chickling.”
    I didn’t like this owl.
    â€œWatch it, Loki. Don’t tease my brother.” Lyze turned to me. “Pay no attention to him, Ifghar, he’s just a joker.”
    â€œSo, you tell him about your courtship flight yet?” Blix asked Lyze.
    Lyze nodded, and turned back to me. “Seems like the whole division is finding mates these days. Loki here is waiting for two eggs to hatch!”
    Some owl actually mated with this nincompoop? She must be yoiks. But all I said was, “Congratulations.”
    â€œIfghar here is in a bit of a gollymope, trouble approaching a female,” Lyze said to his buddies, feigning a whisper. Racdrops! I wish he hadn’t told them that either.
    â€œI didn’t say that! It’s nothing, I…There is no female…” I began to stammer.
    But it was too late, Loki and Blix gave me a merciless ribbing for the next half hour. “Oh, boo-hoo-hoo, poor little Chickbean, so lonesome, can’t find a mate…” Loki whined in his best owl-chick voice, all the while making exaggerated preening motions and yarping a pellet at the same time. Blix churred so hard that he fell off his perch twice. Lyze seemed to have found it quite amusing, too.
    When the laughter finally died down, Loki hopped over to the branch that I was perched on. “Listen, Ifghar.” He called me by my name! He lowered his voice to a serious tone, “All joking aside, let me make it up to you for all this fun we’ve been having at your expense. I will tell you a sure way to win over your female.”
    This was the first time that this owl had spoken to me like I was an equal, instead of some owlipoppen-cuddling chick. I was still suspicious, but curious about what he would say. “Go on.”
    â€œIn the olden days, before the war began, all male Megascops—that means all Screech Owls, like you—had to prove their worthiness to females before they were accepted as mates.”
    I was intrigued.
    Loki continued, “Now, pay attention, this was a very important ritual.” His voice was now at a whisper, as if he were telling me some great secret. “They proved their worthiness by plucking out all their whiskers.”
    â€œAll their whiskers? That’s outrageous!”
    â€œIt’s true, all the noble owls did this, owls from the best families. If you pluck out all your whiskers, you’ll win your female for sure. Isn’t that right, Blix?”
    â€œYou know more about that stuff of yore than I do,” Blix said, shaking his head.
    Lyze said