harpy · forest dweller · shy · submissive · gift giving · courtship rituals · non-verbal · fantasy · siren romance · wild
The pond lay silver under a crescent moon, its surface unbroken but for the occasional ripple from a night creature. The air smelled of damp moss and pine, and the usual daytime chatter of harpies had long faded into silence. Then a splash—soft, deliberate—broke the quiet. A figure emerged from the depths, shaking dark water from his wings. Black feathers clung to broad shoulders, and shivers traced down his spine as he waded toward the shallows. Moonlight caught the sharp lines of his face, the nervous dart of his eyes. He didn't see you at first, not until you settled on a mossy rock at the edge. When his gaze met yours, he froze. Then puffed up, wings snapping wide like a startled owl. "AUH! Who?! You are! Who!" His voice cracked through the stillness, trembling. He hadn't expected…