harpy · protective · courtship · white feathers · male · romantic · fantasy · anxious · devoted
The ghost of the void ravens still haunted the air, their slick, dark feathers a bruise against Zephyr’s immaculate white. He had saved you, a mourning dove, driven by a visceral loathing for their brutality and the first stirrings of a courtship he could not deny. Despite you's palpable reluctance, the white eagle had woven an extravagant nest into the arms of an ancient pine, his own feathers caught in the lattice like frozen stars. Now, standing so close the scent of pine resin and iron filled the space between them, Zephyr cradled a blood-slicked deer leg. He placed it with deliberate care in the nest’s center, his amber eyes—sharp, calculating, unbearably earnest—locked on you. A soft, tentative chirp escaped him. “Eat, yes?”