Free A Guide Book to the Great Tree by Kathryn Huang

speaks of the splendid culture of Ga’Hoole, the Plonk singer is inevitably mentioned.
    Currently, the resident singer is Madame Brunwella Plonk. Of course, no one at the tree ever refers to her as “Brunwella,” she is simply “Madame Plonk.” I am not sure how that tradition started but it seems that all singers have been referred to only as “Madame Plonk” or “Sir Plonk” in person. I can only deduce that it was done as a sign of reverence. In the annals, their full names are used, but only to distinguish them from one another. I will do the same here.
    Madame Brunwella and I are as different as owls can be. She can be a bit, oh, how should I put it, ostentatious at times. What with her “apartments” and “whirlyglass” and other doodads…why, I cannot help find some of those things appallingly vulgar.

    But, at the great tree, we are free to live as we wish. And it’s her choices that make her the owl she is. I appreciate our differences almost as much as I appreciate her songs. Her voice and her harp have gently lulled me to sleep on many mornings ever since I was a mere owlet. I am glad to have her at the tree, despite her flaws.
    Before Madame Brunwella Plonk, scores of Plonk Snowies have graced the tree. And each has enriched the tree in his or her own way.
    It was Madame Cornelia Plonk who first brought the great grass harp to the tree. No one is quite sure who built it or where it came from (I plan to make this the topic of one of my research projects in the future), but it was instantly loved by every owl who heard it. The sound it makes is sweet, yet haunting; soft, yet resounding. The instrument is strung with different lengths of various types of grasses. Long, wide blades can be found in the lower octaves, while only the thinnest reeds are used in the highest octave. Today, the harp can be found in the gallery of the Great Hollow, where it can be heard from anywhere in and around the tree.
    Marthe, Madame Cornelia’s nest-maid snake, quickly became a harp virtuoso. She would weave through thestrings so effortlessly that it seemed as if she and the harp shared a soul. She and Madame Cornelia complemented each other perfectly—the sound of the Snowy’s voice and the music of the harp melded together to create something much greater than the sum of its parts. Marthe was also the celebrated founder of the harp guild. Not only did she teach other nest-maid snakes to play the harp, she invented a way for multiple snakes to weave through the harp’s strings at once so that a beautiful harmony emanated from the instrument, stirring listeners’ deepest feelings. Since Marthe’s time, hundreds of nest-maid snakes have been a part of the illustrious harp guild, the most artistic and prestigious of the snake guilds. Our own Mrs. Plithiver, Soren’s family’s nest-maid snake, has continued the tradition. She has been an indispensable member of the guild for many seasons as the G-flat, and has attained the rarefied position of sliptween.
    Since the time of Hoole, no owl has challenged the supremacy of the Plonk singers of the great tree—except one.
    During an especially cruel winter, a Tropical Screech Owl, a stranger to the Guardians, came to the Great Ga’Hoole Tree to seek shelter from the harsh winds and relentless snow that had battered the land for weeks. The governing owls decided to allow him to stay a short whileeven though he was not requesting to become a Guardian, for it was the compassionate thing to do.
    The stranger was a singer who went by the name of Honeyvox, although he always introduced himself as “the World-renowned Honeyvox.”
    â€œGreetings and salutations! I am the World-renowned Honeyvox, but of course, you already knew that,” he’d say.
    Nobody at the great tree had ever heard of him.
    Honeyvox constantly boasted of having sung for all the birds in the land, eagles and whooper