A Guide Book to the Great Tree Read Online Free PDF Page B

been the most grueling year of his life. He and his mate thought thatwas exactly what young Struma needed. At Little Hoole, she would learn discipline and respect for authority. And even though the War of the Ice Claws hadn’t officially ended, it seemed that the Kielian League had victory within their grasp. With winter coming, Little Hoole was sure to be one of the safest places in the Northern Kingdoms.
    â€œI nearly screeched my head off! How could they send me to such a glaux-forsaken place?” There was still a hint of outrage in Strix Struma’s voice as she continued with her story, but I thought I detected a whiff of nostalgia as well. “But I knew there was nothing I could do to change their minds. Besides, I thought it might be good to get away from my parents, in a way that wouldn’t cause them to disown me.”
    And so, one evening in late autumn, Strix Hurth and Strix Otulinn delivered their delinquent daughter to Glen Hoole. A light snow was falling. It was the most difficult journey that Struma had ever flown. On more than one occasion, she thought that the wildly swirling winds and icy mist would cause her to hurtle into the sheer ice walls of the mountains. And winter hadn’t even come yet; this was still the “mild season” in these parts. When she first laid eyes on the icy peaks that she would have to traverse, Struma thought for sure that she would freeze before shereached the glen. She only made it with the guidance of her mum, who, as a weathertrix, was accustomed to this type of flying.
    Struma’s outlook did not improve at the end of her journey. Little Hoole was as dismal a place as she had imagined. It seemed everything there was a murky shade of gray—including the owls, be they Great Grays, Snowies, or Spotted. She counted fifty or so owls at the camp, and they all moved about in practiced monotony—marching, sharpening ice weapons, moving supplies. Ghareth’s Keep itself was a stone monstrosity. Never had Struma seem anything so unwelcoming. But she reckoned that was intentional. This would be where she would sleep every day until spring. She wasn’t sure if her gizzard was numb from the prospect or from the cold.
    When it came time to light down for the first time in her new home, Struma found that she was exhausted, but could not sleep. And every time she began to doze off, she dreamed of ice walls closing in all around her. When the drill sergeant gave the wake-up call the next evening, Struma marched out of the Keep in a daze, only to find that it wasn’t even First Lavender yet.
    The night began early for owls at Little Hoole. There was not a single crow in sight in these mountains, so owls were often wakened during the late afternoon to begintheir drills. There were marching drills, several types of flying drills, weapon-handling drills, combat drills…so many drills that Struma lost track. Her body ached from First Lavender to First Gray. It was all she could do to climb into her nest at twixt time.
    On top of the endless drills, Struma also had to take classes in battle tactics, navigation, geology, and weather interpretation. For the first time in her life, her “natural talents” failed her. At first, she didn’t really care that she wasn’t doing well in her classes. But soon, it became abundantly clear that failure would not be tolerated. If she didn’t master the material covered in class, she was subjected to more drills, less sleep, and scathing looks from the older recruits.
    It seemed impossible to make friends at Little Hoole. All the other owls, mostly new recruits, knew of Struma’s distinguished lineage and thought of her as little more than a spoiled and self-centered fledgling. Few owls spoke to her unless it was to give her an order. Struma ate alone most nights. Almost a full moon cycle had passed since her arrival. She grew more depressed with each passing day.
    The only owl Struma felt