The Polar Owl

"Excuse me, you dropped this." I turned and saw a beautiful female Polar. I had seen her before, her nest was on the tundra. "Thank you," I said, enjoying the attention. "Do you prefer Artic Owl or Snow Owl?" She asked me. Beyond forward, she was brazenly interested. "I always say I am Polar." She nodded and dropped the feather. “Me too.” "You are incredibly white," she told me. I had heard this before, but being male, I enjoyed it. We struck up a little conversation and she invited me to dine. She had fresh carrion, and it was delicious. The beginning of a beautiful friendship. Developed when I dropped a feather And she cared enough to pick it up And follow me home. Nothing better.