Haunted Wood Hoot Hoot, Madapaka

There was nothing too interesting happening within the dark woods, or at least nothing that he knew of. It was peaceful, more or less, though certain noises found a way to bug him. The movements of animals that were far too large for him to turn into a meal could be heard in nearly every direction, though there was not a vast population of them. Just one or two here and there, stragglers that hadn’t quite reached the rest of their kind just yet. Rarely did he hear groups of others moving about, but he knew the reasoning behind it all. The stars that shown at night, as well as the temperature that surrounded him, made it clear that the cold months were approaching. Winter, he knew it to be called, a name that sounded just as pretty as the season was capable of appearing. He was left trapped within his own mind, imaging snow falling down to lay across the earth, coating everything in a sheet of white. It was a time he most stood out in, and yet that never bothered him. The aesthetics of it all made camouflage seem like something of absolute zero importance.
 
Keyx was dragged from his daydreams as a familiar sound reached his ears. It was the movement of wings, but different from a bird of the day. Barn owls flew with silence as long as they kept their feathers well groomed, but the roughness of the approaching stranger’s strokes pushed the air just enough to produce a gentle whooshing sound. It had the male’s head turning before the other could even land, giving him the chance to get in the first few glances. The owl was younger than himself, that was for sure, and seemingly smaller, too. What caught him slightly off guard was the colouration of his feathers. Now, the boy’s parliament was one of great knowledge, harbouring information on many things. That allowed for him to know of the existence of others like himself, but also to learn that they were a rare occurrence—and that there was never a guarantee that those who hatched would be allowed to live. Most were chucked from the nest, left to die the second it was revealed that they weren't like the others of the brood. For Keyx and the stranger, however, things were different. Both had been able to live, and then permitted to cross paths in life.
 
He watched as the other grew closer to him, but did not lash out in anyway. He, too, was glad to meet yet another owl, especially one who shared an appearance similar to his own. “Hello,” Keyx greeted, responding to the younger’s high energy level with a soft churr. “At one point, I thought I was the only one here, too.” It’d been a terrible feeling, that sense of isolation. Yet it was made better when he met Vulpine, a female of his kind. “I’m Keyx.” Polite as always, though he did not present his full name. It wasn’t common for him to do so, anyways, so it didn’t really matter much. Just as he was about to ask the boy a few questions to get to know him better, a familiar form landed above his own. There then came her voice, something he caught himself enjoying the sound of. “Seems we were destined to cross paths again,” he said, a trace of humour in his tone. He had enjoyed his first encounter with the woman, and to meet her again was a wonderful thing. “This is Alfie. Alfie, this is Vulpine.” As he spoke, he gestured between the two of them, taking it upon himself to get introductions out of the way. “What brings the two of you here on this fine day, of all times?” The melanistic tyto asked, giving both of them a glance every now and again. It seemed he wasn't the only one with a knack for getting stuck out during the daylight hours, much to his relief.