I cast aside my downy pride, all heaven's things--they clipped my wings

[mindtheplums]

*It's a short ways east of Rook House, the little Owlery. He'd bought the thirty-odd barns and tawnies when he'd launched the Quibbler, and had spent the better part of a week building them all a home. He's a decent carpenter and has always had an eye for design, and it turned out a comfortable sort of place for an owl: a little wooden tower, circular and green-painted, open under the eaves. He's good about mucking it out regularly, so it doesn't smell too bad even in the middle of summer. The owls aren't terribly friendly and seem to prefer one another's company to Xeno's, but they're professional and make deliveries quickly. All in all, he's proud of his little fleet, and that's reflected in the care he takes with them.

It's almost dawn, now, and the owls are just roosting, settling to sleep in little clusters. Xenophilius is in the habit of rising early, but not this early; over in Rook House, he's still in his huge and empty bed, making room for a Clover who isn't there and deep in dreamless sleep.*