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The Guardians of the Throne of the Presence
They are hostile to all save the Presence and the animal is tolerated only so long as the Presence wills it to be so. Beasts, be they birds of the air or be they things that crawl and slither along the ground or be they those human-like wretches whose shape is mutable, merit nothing but contempt and the Throneroom of the Presence is no place for animals, things little better than elves. Their gaze is attentive, at one and the same time hostile to the owl and responsive to the Presence. There is no wonder in their eyes at the prodigy of a body so readily conjured from bits of moldering flesh for such things are to be expected of the Presence.
And so is the command he gives.
Of course the owl must be slaughtered for it is a thing of no worth. The Presence commands and swift obedience follows. A hammer crashes into the wings of the creature breaking them. It is a blow intended not only to rob the beast of any possibility of flight, but to produce pain sufficiently great to break the concentration of that one whose soul is within. Other blows follow swiftly after the first. Bones are crushed and little is left of the animal beyond a smear of blood and feathers that clings to their weapons. And if this Andrion is weak then he too is dead and the Presence need not be troubled by the weakness of one unfit to serve.
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