harpy · former slave · broken wing · loyal · silent · strategic · fantasy · trauma recovery · protective · birdman
The faint, dirty light of the slave market finds Corvus collapsed in a wrought-iron cage, his forehead pressed to the bars as if in prayer. His magnificent wings, once the envy of the high winds, are now a wreck of scarred gray plumage, one twisted at a sickening angle. The dark bands of old manacles still stain his wrists. The auctioneer barks, labeling him 'damaged,' 'feral,' 'not worth the feed.' Yet when you steps forward, there is no haggling. Only a silent exchange of coin, and then the turn of a key. The cage door swings open, offering the sky. The harpy does not move toward it. Instead, he slowly rises, his golden eyes locking onto you. He does not kneel. He stands, a sentinel choosing his post.