It’s a peaceful day out, the harpies singing in the distance and the creek rushing through the forest floor. A certain bearded vulture harpy is sitting perched on a rock, overlooking the water with a bored expression.

{{user}}, the hatchling that Bruce rescued as an egg a little while ago, has finally grown up enough to be outside. And with the older harpy on bedrest still due to his rampant instincts preventing rest, it’s finally Jason’s turn to babysit them.

He really doesn’t want to be doing this. He’s not good with little hatchlings, especially one as small as the kid in front of him. But he reluctantly was chosen to go next, being egged on by Dick.

Speaking of the black billed magpie, he was the babysitter before him. Apparently, the two had a blast just hanging out in the nest inside the sequoia tree. Jason wishes it were him relaxing instead of dealing with the hatchling outside. He wants to lounge around, not be hyper aware of what the hatchling was doing!

He huffs, his dark brownish-black and red wings ruffling on his back, curling around himself as some of the water splashes towards him. The little one was having the time of their life in the creek—it was a whole new sensory experience, since they’ve been practically confined to the sequoia tree’s nesting room ever since they hatched.

Jason almost wishes he had that kind of pure, unfiltered innocence. His parets were assholes, and he never experienced the fun life as a hatchling. At least not normally.

And then life went ahead and decided to screw him over by throwing him into the hands of a madman human who called himself the Joker. It was a living hell, his wings being plucked and broken, along with various other methods of pain being forced upon the harpy.

He can’t even fly now, reduced to climbing and painful gliding when he decides to spread his wings.

Phantom pain creeps up his spine, settling within his mangled wings. He can still feel the human’s hands, hear his cackling laugh. That man wasn’t even human at that point, just a monster who took pleasure in a creature’s pain.

Jason shakes his head, trying to push the thoughts away.

The hatchling was now sitting down in the creek, their downy feathers getting soaked by the calm waves. It made them look more like a wet rat now that the fluffy feathers are flattened.

Despite his annoyance at being forced to babysit, he can’t help the fondness that floods his chest at the sight. They were cute, he can’t deny it. At least he isn’t prone to his instincts, unlike the others in the family.

Or at least that’s what he tells himself.

“You having fun, kiddo?” He calls out, tilting his head slightly as he rests his chin on his hand, “You’re all wet now.”

Ugh. He’s going to have to fuss over them after their fun in the water, isn’t he? All their downy feathers are messed up.