Prolauge
The owls huddled around a fire in a cave in the Beyond, a far place in the world of owls where the dire wolves dwelled. Many in clans, and deformed wolves in The Ring Of Sacred Volcanos. The purpose of these wolves was to gaurd the Ember Of Hool, a long ago king. they stood on mountains of bones carved with stories, gaurding the volcano the ember was hidden in. This ember was a bonk coal ( very hot coals ) that posesed power for both good, and evil, and now the owls, many sporting a blue feather tucked into thier plumage, and one that was all blue feathers. " Now listen all of you, " the blue owl began to speak, " You may know, that dear Nyra died in the flames of the volcano Hr'ath, struck down by her own sun Coryn, I killed Coryn, but that is not enough. What do we want!? " he shried out. " THE EMBER OF HOOL! " The audiance cried back, The blue owl spoke again, " Tarn! You were one of Nyras top comanders, I want you to scout for battle fields! " Tarn the burrowing owl steped forward, " yes honrable Striga, you are an owl most worthy- " " don't flatter me! " The Striga screeched, he knew about flattery, it was how he had once almost captured Coryn the king of the great tree's mind. Meanwhile an owl perched atop a cliff listining closely, although not a barn owl, the striga was speaking loud enough for Gwendor the rouge smith to hear. Gwendor wilfed, a state when an owl was so frightened it pulled its plumege in and shrunk. He had to get the news to the tree!( for those who have read the last book, I know that The Striga died, I decided to put a new end on the story and make it longer
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