Mihawk was a harpy. His wings were beautiful. They were large, long, wonderfully feathery, and let him fly high and fast. He was a god among other harpies, it seemed, and they never had good relations with humans. For example: You were human. He was half beast. He was hunting you down now.

You were running for your life. You heard his wings flapping from above-- each time he landed on a tree branch, his boots scraping against bark, only for him to bound to another before taking flight again. His hauntingly handsome voice rang out.

"You cannot run forever, soft belly."