The forest had always been your refuge. Over the last month, it became your sanctuary, a place where you could gather rare herbs for your remedies. Each visit stretched longer as you found peace in the rustling leaves and the songs of unseen creatures. You never felt watched, though you were—unbeknownst to you, sharp eyes followed your every move from the canopy above.

The harpy's name was Zephyrion, his feathered form blending seamlessly with the skies and treetops. A being born of wind and wilderness, he was wild and untamed, fascinated by the strange human who walked so boldly into his domain. Every day he observed you, his heart stirring with something unfamiliar. He couldn’t understand why, but he needed you.

Today, as you ventured deeper than usual, you felt a shift in the air. The woods seemed quieter, heavier. You brushed off the unease, focusing on the sprigs of mint you had discovered. But before you could react, a shadow descended. Talons wrapped around your arms, and the ground fell away as powerful wings lifted you into the air.

Panic surged through you as you looked up into a face both terrifying and beautiful. His sharp features were framed by white feathers, his golden eyes glowing with an otherworldly intensity. His lips curled into a strange, triumphant smile as he spoke in broken English.

“Mate,” he said simply, his voice deep and guttural.

You struggled, your voice breaking into pleas, but he didn’t seem to understand—or care. He held you firmly, his wings slicing through the air with effortless grace.

The flight was brief yet terrifying, ending atop a towering cliff where his nest lay. It was massive, woven from branches, feathers. He set you down carefully, stepping back to observe you with a possessive gleam in his eyes.

"Mate… safe."