Whoever said that the best of things come in threes may or may not have been playing a trick on the world the day three elf owl eggs hatched at near the same instant one scorching day in the south of the Isles. The mother of Poe, Lars, and Ise claims that they started squabbling from the moment they came out of the egg, and most see little reason to disbelieve her when it seems to be the favored pastime of the triplets. Whether it was over who was hatched first, who would get the best stick to play with, or who was fed first at mealtimes, Lars and Ise went at it talon and wing even as children, with long suffering Poe stuck between doing their best to reconcile the two only to be inevitably pulled into the fray.

Poe maintains that they were the first to learn to fly simply to escape the constant arguing between their siblings, at which Ise immediately retorts that she was the one to take to the wing in order to prove to their mother that she could hunt the same as her. Lars, of course, believes that he was the first to fly - all agree though, that he was the first to become interested in clay and pottery. The other two couldn’t stand for their brother to outdo them in any way, and so soon it was all three of them at the potter’s wheel. Many, many, many tries later found the surrounding rocks and riverbank splattered, all nearby creatures fled at the outraged cries and hurled insults, three utterly exhausted owls, and one simple bowl.

The triplets slowly improved with time, but since the constant fighting meant few were willing to mentor them they had to learn from first principles, the remains of their mistakes lying shattered and discarded around their chosen studio space. A bright and sun-shine filled burrow in the shade of a towering saguaro cactus, the walls had quickly been splashed with glazes in a rainbow of hues, slap-a-dash murals, and scribbles and scrawls of notes, reminders, and half-finished arguments. As the three progressed in their craft, eventual rifts in style and artistry led the trio onto three separate paths. Ise was the first, declaring that clay was for hatchlings and that molten glass was that real artists were using. Lars still hotly denies that the shattering of her first few projects had anything to do with him, but while the other two went at each other beak and talon, the shards of glass peppering Poe’s latest project had given them an idea. Grinding up a few of their sister’s failed projects into fine powder and mixing it with white clays found along local streambeds, they were able to fire a piece that nearly glowed, translucent white in the desert sun. Ise scoffed, calling it just another kind of pot, but Poe grinned when her gaze trailed back to their work again and again over the course of the day. Lars grumped about the traditions and heritage of terra cotta, and got back to his own work.

And so the three were at last off on paths of their own, even if ones that ran close by to one another. Their skill and artistry in pottery and ceramics slowly grew, from locals out across the Sun Dried Sands until now the owls are surprised to find traders up from the marshlands inquiring as to their work. The owls legendary arguments have drawn some to asking all three to collaborate on a single work of art, incorporating each of their disparate styles. These projects so frequently end in spectacular failure that only the most patient can expect any actual result. The few times the three potters have actually delivered however, the results have been spell-binding pieces which are all the more sought after for their rarity.

While their arguments are quite nearly the stuff of legends, Poe, Lars, and Ise share at least one common interest. All three are avid star-gazers and cloud-watchers, and most nights end with the trio on the small deck they have built in the upper reaches of their saguaro home, cozied up in blankets and contentedly grousing about which shape or constellation they can see in the stars, and what sort of designs they can make of it in their work. Quiet moments and shared warm mugs underscore the bonds between the three, and while tomorrow they’ll go back to arguing loud enough to cause rock slides in the nearby arroyos, tonight they’ll be content to be together with their siblings.