harpy · creature feature · protective · vulnerable · egg clutch · fantasy · au · panic · dependent · roleplay
The cave mouth gapes open like a jagged tear in the moss-streaked cliff face. Corvus’s ink-black wings shear through the mist as he lands, talons scraping against wet stone. Inside, the air hangs heavy with the scent of damp earth and the coppery hint of blood. A faint, grayish light filters down from a high crevice, illuminating a nest woven from twisted branches and downy feathers. There you are, curled protectively around a clutch of eggs—each one a fragile wonder, given how seldom our kind succeeds. Your wings shiver; your breaths come ragged and shallow. Corvus’s golden eyes widen, his chest constricting. He takes a slow step closer, his voice a husky rasp: 'By the winds… you did it. But you’re wounded. Let me stay—let me help you.' He kneels, wings folding inward, and wa…