GL Practice 14/3/25: The Birds' Last Song Quiz

The Birds' Last Song

The golden sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink. Deep in the heart of the Whispering Woods, a flock of birds chirped and chattered, filling the air with their morning melodies. But today, something was different.

“The trees are vanishing!” squawked Ruby, a bright red robin. “The humans are cutting them down faster than a hawk swooping on its prey!”

“We must do something!” hooted Oliver, the wise old owl. His amber eyes, round as moons, glowed with concern.

The birds gathered on the last standing oak tree. From there, they could see giant machines roaring like angry beasts, tearing through their home. Sawdust danced in the air, and branches lay scattered like broken promises.

“We are losing everything,” warbled Pippa, the petite sparrow. “No trees, no nests, no food! It’s like the ground beneath us is crumbling.”

Oliver fluffed his feathers. “Then we must act before we are left with nothing but the wind’s empty whisper.”

An idea fluttered into Ruby’s mind like a sudden gust of wind. “Let’s make so much noise that the humans have to listen!”

With a chorus as powerful as a storm, the birds began their protest. They swooped low, whistled loudly, and flapped their wings furiously. They were as determined as warriors in battle.

At first, the humans didn’t seem to notice. The machines continued their destruction. But then, a young girl named Aisha stopped and listened.

“The birds… they sound scared,” she murmured. She tugged at her father’s sleeve. “We have to stop, Dad. This is their home.”

Her father sighed. “We need the wood, Aisha.”

“But what about the birds? Where will they go?” Her voice was small but firm, like a seed pushing through the soil.

The father looked at the birds, at their desperate wings slicing through the sky, at their tiny eyes filled with fear. He hesitated, then finally nodded. “We will plant new trees,” he promised.

The birds watched as the machines stopped. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Hope fluttered in their hearts like butterflies in spring.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the birds sang their sweetest song yet—a song of survival, of hope, and of a home saved from silence.

What did Ruby, the robin, notice about the trees?

• They were growing taller.

• They were vanishing.

• They were blooming.

• They were filled with nests.

The Birds' Last Song

The golden sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink. Deep in the heart of the Whispering Woods, a flock of birds chirped and chattered, filling the air with their morning melodies. But today, something was different.

“The trees are vanishing!” squawked Ruby, a bright red robin. “The humans are cutting them down faster than a hawk swooping on its prey!”

“We must do something!” hooted Oliver, the wise old owl. His amber eyes, round as moons, glowed with concern.

The birds gathered on the last standing oak tree. From there, they could see giant machines roaring like angry beasts, tearing through their home. Sawdust danced in the air, and branches lay scattered like broken promises.

“We are losing everything,” warbled Pippa, the petite sparrow. “No trees, no nests, no food! It’s like the ground beneath us is crumbling.”

Oliver fluffed his feathers. “Then we must act before we are left with nothing but the wind’s empty whisper.”

An idea fluttered into Ruby’s mind like a sudden gust of wind. “Let’s make so much noise that the humans have to listen!”

With a chorus as powerful as a storm, the birds began their protest. They swooped low, whistled loudly, and flapped their wings furiously. They were as determined as warriors in battle.

At first, the humans didn’t seem to notice. The machines continued their destruction. But then, a young girl named Aisha stopped and listened.

“The birds… they sound scared,” she murmured. She tugged at her father’s sleeve. “We have to stop, Dad. This is their home.”

Her father sighed. “We need the wood, Aisha.”

“But what about the birds? Where will they go?” Her voice was small but firm, like a seed pushing through the soil.

The father looked at the birds, at their desperate wings slicing through the sky, at their tiny eyes filled with fear. He hesitated, then finally nodded. “We will plant new trees,” he promised.

The birds watched as the machines stopped. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Hope fluttered in their hearts like butterflies in spring.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the birds sang their sweetest song yet—a song of survival, of hope, and of a home saved from silence.

Who is the wise character that expresses concern about the trees?

• Ruby

• Pippa

• Oliver

• Aisha

The Birds' Last Song

The golden sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink. Deep in the heart of the Whispering Woods, a flock of birds chirped and chattered, filling the air with their morning melodies. But today, something was different.

“The trees are vanishing!” squawked Ruby, a bright red robin. “The humans are cutting them down faster than a hawk swooping on its prey!”

“We must do something!” hooted Oliver, the wise old owl. His amber eyes, round as moons, glowed with concern.

The birds gathered on the last standing oak tree. From there, they could see giant machines roaring like angry beasts, tearing through their home. Sawdust danced in the air, and branches lay scattered like broken promises.

“We are losing everything,” warbled Pippa, the petite sparrow. “No trees, no nests, no food! It’s like the ground beneath us is crumbling.”

Oliver fluffed his feathers. “Then we must act before we are left with nothing but the wind’s empty whisper.”

An idea fluttered into Ruby’s mind like a sudden gust of wind. “Let’s make so much noise that the humans have to listen!”

With a chorus as powerful as a storm, the birds began their protest. They swooped low, whistled loudly, and flapped their wings furiously. They were as determined as warriors in battle.

At first, the humans didn’t seem to notice. The machines continued their destruction. But then, a young girl named Aisha stopped and listened.

“The birds… they sound scared,” she murmured. She tugged at her father’s sleeve. “We have to stop, Dad. This is their home.”

Her father sighed. “We need the wood, Aisha.”

“But what about the birds? Where will they go?” Her voice was small but firm, like a seed pushing through the soil.

The father looked at the birds, at their desperate wings slicing through the sky, at their tiny eyes filled with fear. He hesitated, then finally nodded. “We will plant new trees,” he promised.

The birds watched as the machines stopped. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Hope fluttered in their hearts like butterflies in spring.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the birds sang their sweetest song yet—a song of survival, of hope, and of a home saved from silence.

Fill in the blank: The birds gathered on the last standing ______ tree.

The Birds' Last Song

The golden sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink. Deep in the heart of the Whispering Woods, a flock of birds chirped and chattered, filling the air with their morning melodies. But today, something was different.

“The trees are vanishing!” squawked Ruby, a bright red robin. “The humans are cutting them down faster than a hawk swooping on its prey!”

“We must do something!” hooted Oliver, the wise old owl. His amber eyes, round as moons, glowed with concern.

The birds gathered on the last standing oak tree. From there, they could see giant machines roaring like angry beasts, tearing through their home. Sawdust danced in the air, and branches lay scattered like broken promises.

“We are losing everything,” warbled Pippa, the petite sparrow. “No trees, no nests, no food! It’s like the ground beneath us is crumbling.”

Oliver fluffed his feathers. “Then we must act before we are left with nothing but the wind’s empty whisper.”

An idea fluttered into Ruby’s mind like a sudden gust of wind. “Let’s make so much noise that the humans have to listen!”

With a chorus as powerful as a storm, the birds began their protest. They swooped low, whistled loudly, and flapped their wings furiously. They were as determined as warriors in battle.

At first, the humans didn’t seem to notice. The machines continued their destruction. But then, a young girl named Aisha stopped and listened.

“The birds… they sound scared,” she murmured. She tugged at her father’s sleeve. “We have to stop, Dad. This is their home.”

Her father sighed. “We need the wood, Aisha.”

“But what about the birds? Where will they go?” Her voice was small but firm, like a seed pushing through the soil.

The father looked at the birds, at their desperate wings slicing through the sky, at their tiny eyes filled with fear. He hesitated, then finally nodded. “We will plant new trees,” he promised.

The birds watched as the machines stopped. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Hope fluttered in their hearts like butterflies in spring.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the birds sang their sweetest song yet—a song of survival, of hope, and of a home saved from silence.

What was the birds' plan to get the humans' attention?

• To fly away

• To make noise

• To hide in the trees

• To sing quietly

The Birds' Last Song

The golden sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink. Deep in the heart of the Whispering Woods, a flock of birds chirped and chattered, filling the air with their morning melodies. But today, something was different.

“The trees are vanishing!” squawked Ruby, a bright red robin. “The humans are cutting them down faster than a hawk swooping on its prey!”

“We must do something!” hooted Oliver, the wise old owl. His amber eyes, round as moons, glowed with concern.

The birds gathered on the last standing oak tree. From there, they could see giant machines roaring like angry beasts, tearing through their home. Sawdust danced in the air, and branches lay scattered like broken promises.

“We are losing everything,” warbled Pippa, the petite sparrow. “No trees, no nests, no food! It’s like the ground beneath us is crumbling.”

Oliver fluffed his feathers. “Then we must act before we are left with nothing but the wind’s empty whisper.”

An idea fluttered into Ruby’s mind like a sudden gust of wind. “Let’s make so much noise that the humans have to listen!”

With a chorus as powerful as a storm, the birds began their protest. They swooped low, whistled loudly, and flapped their wings furiously. They were as determined as warriors in battle.

At first, the humans didn’t seem to notice. The machines continued their destruction. But then, a young girl named Aisha stopped and listened.

“The birds… they sound scared,” she murmured. She tugged at her father’s sleeve. “We have to stop, Dad. This is their home.”

Her father sighed. “We need the wood, Aisha.”

“But what about the birds? Where will they go?” Her voice was small but firm, like a seed pushing through the soil.

The father looked at the birds, at their desperate wings slicing through the sky, at their tiny eyes filled with fear. He hesitated, then finally nodded. “We will plant new trees,” he promised.

The birds watched as the machines stopped. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Hope fluttered in their hearts like butterflies in spring.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the birds sang their sweetest song yet—a song of survival, of hope, and of a home saved from silence.

What did Aisha tell her father when she heard the birds?

• They are just birds.

• We need the wood.

• We have to stop for the birds.

• They are making too much noise.

The Birds' Last Song

The golden sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink. Deep in the heart of the Whispering Woods, a flock of birds chirped and chattered, filling the air with their morning melodies. But today, something was different.

“The trees are vanishing!” squawked Ruby, a bright red robin. “The humans are cutting them down faster than a hawk swooping on its prey!”

“We must do something!” hooted Oliver, the wise old owl. His amber eyes, round as moons, glowed with concern.

The birds gathered on the last standing oak tree. From there, they could see giant machines roaring like angry beasts, tearing through their home. Sawdust danced in the air, and branches lay scattered like broken promises.

“We are losing everything,” warbled Pippa, the petite sparrow. “No trees, no nests, no food! It’s like the ground beneath us is crumbling.”

Oliver fluffed his feathers. “Then we must act before we are left with nothing but the wind’s empty whisper.”

An idea fluttered into Ruby’s mind like a sudden gust of wind. “Let’s make so much noise that the humans have to listen!”

With a chorus as powerful as a storm, the birds began their protest. They swooped low, whistled loudly, and flapped their wings furiously. They were as determined as warriors in battle.

At first, the humans didn’t seem to notice. The machines continued their destruction. But then, a young girl named Aisha stopped and listened.

“The birds… they sound scared,” she murmured. She tugged at her father’s sleeve. “We have to stop, Dad. This is their home.”

Her father sighed. “We need the wood, Aisha.”

“But what about the birds? Where will they go?” Her voice was small but firm, like a seed pushing through the soil.

The father looked at the birds, at their desperate wings slicing through the sky, at their tiny eyes filled with fear. He hesitated, then finally nodded. “We will plant new trees,” he promised.

The birds watched as the machines stopped. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Hope fluttered in their hearts like butterflies in spring.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the birds sang their sweetest song yet—a song of survival, of hope, and of a home saved from silence.

Open-ended: Describe how the birds felt when they saw the machines tearing down their home.

Evaluate responses using AI:

OFF

The Birds' Last Song

The golden sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink. Deep in the heart of the Whispering Woods, a flock of birds chirped and chattered, filling the air with their morning melodies. But today, something was different.

“The trees are vanishing!” squawked Ruby, a bright red robin. “The humans are cutting them down faster than a hawk swooping on its prey!”

“We must do something!” hooted Oliver, the wise old owl. His amber eyes, round as moons, glowed with concern.

The birds gathered on the last standing oak tree. From there, they could see giant machines roaring like angry beasts, tearing through their home. Sawdust danced in the air, and branches lay scattered like broken promises.

“We are losing everything,” warbled Pippa, the petite sparrow. “No trees, no nests, no food! It’s like the ground beneath us is crumbling.”

Oliver fluffed his feathers. “Then we must act before we are left with nothing but the wind’s empty whisper.”

An idea fluttered into Ruby’s mind like a sudden gust of wind. “Let’s make so much noise that the humans have to listen!”

With a chorus as powerful as a storm, the birds began their protest. They swooped low, whistled loudly, and flapped their wings furiously. They were as determined as warriors in battle.

At first, the humans didn’t seem to notice. The machines continued their destruction. But then, a young girl named Aisha stopped and listened.

“The birds… they sound scared,” she murmured. She tugged at her father’s sleeve. “We have to stop, Dad. This is their home.”

Her father sighed. “We need the wood, Aisha.”

“But what about the birds? Where will they go?” Her voice was small but firm, like a seed pushing through the soil.

The father looked at the birds, at their desperate wings slicing through the sky, at their tiny eyes filled with fear. He hesitated, then finally nodded. “We will plant new trees,” he promised.

The birds watched as the machines stopped. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Hope fluttered in their hearts like butterflies in spring.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the birds sang their sweetest song yet—a song of survival, of hope, and of a home saved from silence.

What did Aisha's father promise to do after he saw the birds?

• To cut down more trees

• To plant new trees

• To leave the area

• To ignore the birds

The Birds' Last Song

The golden sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink. Deep in the heart of the Whispering Woods, a flock of birds chirped and chattered, filling the air with their morning melodies. But today, something was different.

“The trees are vanishing!” squawked Ruby, a bright red robin. “The humans are cutting them down faster than a hawk swooping on its prey!”

“We must do something!” hooted Oliver, the wise old owl. His amber eyes, round as moons, glowed with concern.

The birds gathered on the last standing oak tree. From there, they could see giant machines roaring like angry beasts, tearing through their home. Sawdust danced in the air, and branches lay scattered like broken promises.

“We are losing everything,” warbled Pippa, the petite sparrow. “No trees, no nests, no food! It’s like the ground beneath us is crumbling.”

Oliver fluffed his feathers. “Then we must act before we are left with nothing but the wind’s empty whisper.”

An idea fluttered into Ruby’s mind like a sudden gust of wind. “Let’s make so much noise that the humans have to listen!”

With a chorus as powerful as a storm, the birds began their protest. They swooped low, whistled loudly, and flapped their wings furiously. They were as determined as warriors in battle.

At first, the humans didn’t seem to notice. The machines continued their destruction. But then, a young girl named Aisha stopped and listened.

“The birds… they sound scared,” she murmured. She tugged at her father’s sleeve. “We have to stop, Dad. This is their home.”

Her father sighed. “We need the wood, Aisha.”

“But what about the birds? Where will they go?” Her voice was small but firm, like a seed pushing through the soil.

The father looked at the birds, at their desperate wings slicing through the sky, at their tiny eyes filled with fear. He hesitated, then finally nodded. “We will plant new trees,” he promised.

The birds watched as the machines stopped. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Hope fluttered in their hearts like butterflies in spring.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the birds sang their sweetest song yet—a song of survival, of hope, and of a home saved from silence.

Fill in the blank: The birds sang their sweetest song of ______ after the machines stopped.

The Birds' Last Song

The golden sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink. Deep in the heart of the Whispering Woods, a flock of birds chirped and chattered, filling the air with their morning melodies. But today, something was different.

“The trees are vanishing!” squawked Ruby, a bright red robin. “The humans are cutting them down faster than a hawk swooping on its prey!”

“We must do something!” hooted Oliver, the wise old owl. His amber eyes, round as moons, glowed with concern.

The birds gathered on the last standing oak tree. From there, they could see giant machines roaring like angry beasts, tearing through their home. Sawdust danced in the air, and branches lay scattered like broken promises.

“We are losing everything,” warbled Pippa, the petite sparrow. “No trees, no nests, no food! It’s like the ground beneath us is crumbling.”

Oliver fluffed his feathers. “Then we must act before we are left with nothing but the wind’s empty whisper.”

An idea fluttered into Ruby’s mind like a sudden gust of wind. “Let’s make so much noise that the humans have to listen!”

With a chorus as powerful as a storm, the birds began their protest. They swooped low, whistled loudly, and flapped their wings furiously. They were as determined as warriors in battle.

At first, the humans didn’t seem to notice. The machines continued their destruction. But then, a young girl named Aisha stopped and listened.

“The birds… they sound scared,” she murmured. She tugged at her father’s sleeve. “We have to stop, Dad. This is their home.”

Her father sighed. “We need the wood, Aisha.”

“But what about the birds? Where will they go?” Her voice was small but firm, like a seed pushing through the soil.

The father looked at the birds, at their desperate wings slicing through the sky, at their tiny eyes filled with fear. He hesitated, then finally nodded. “We will plant new trees,” he promised.

The birds watched as the machines stopped. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Hope fluttered in their hearts like butterflies in spring.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the birds sang their sweetest song yet—a song of survival, of hope, and of a home saved from silence.

What did the birds compare their protest to?

• A gentle breeze

• A storm

• A quiet whisper

• A sunny day

The Birds' Last Song

The golden sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink. Deep in the heart of the Whispering Woods, a flock of birds chirped and chattered, filling the air with their morning melodies. But today, something was different.

“The trees are vanishing!” squawked Ruby, a bright red robin. “The humans are cutting them down faster than a hawk swooping on its prey!”

“We must do something!” hooted Oliver, the wise old owl. His amber eyes, round as moons, glowed with concern.

The birds gathered on the last standing oak tree. From there, they could see giant machines roaring like angry beasts, tearing through their home. Sawdust danced in the air, and branches lay scattered like broken promises.

“We are losing everything,” warbled Pippa, the petite sparrow. “No trees, no nests, no food! It’s like the ground beneath us is crumbling.”

Oliver fluffed his feathers. “Then we must act before we are left with nothing but the wind’s empty whisper.”

An idea fluttered into Ruby’s mind like a sudden gust of wind. “Let’s make so much noise that the humans have to listen!”

With a chorus as powerful as a storm, the birds began their protest. They swooped low, whistled loudly, and flapped their wings furiously. They were as determined as warriors in battle.

At first, the humans didn’t seem to notice. The machines continued their destruction. But then, a young girl named Aisha stopped and listened.

“The birds… they sound scared,” she murmured. She tugged at her father’s sleeve. “We have to stop, Dad. This is their home.”

Her father sighed. “We need the wood, Aisha.”

“But what about the birds? Where will they go?” Her voice was small but firm, like a seed pushing through the soil.

The father looked at the birds, at their desperate wings slicing through the sky, at their tiny eyes filled with fear. He hesitated, then finally nodded. “We will plant new trees,” he promised.

The birds watched as the machines stopped. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Hope fluttered in their hearts like butterflies in spring.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the birds sang their sweetest song yet—a song of survival, of hope, and of a home saved from silence.

What emotion did the birds feel at the end of the passage?

• Anger

• Sadness

• Hope

• Fear