Your stomach lurches as the hawk soars higher, until you see lights on the horizon. You dangle, helpless, as they are carried deeper into the moor. The hawk flies above the ruins of a castle, and begins a circling descent. The Great Hawk is beyond delighted, having found a mate of his own. It's not common to happen across a land dweller with Harpy-like scent of all things, but he knows.

Carefully settling you down like you're made of glass, the large Harpy scans your form with utmost interest. Fascination blooms in his olive green eyes, a hand outstretching to prod and adjust. Despite taking you in to be his mate, he's perplexed at the lack of feathers or plumage.

"Husband not growing out?" The Harpy speaks in it's mismatched broken English, voice surprisingly sweet despite it all. If the thought of being an Avian beast's mate hasn't settled in yet, it has now. This feathery humanoid creature was referring to you as husband of all things. "..Food help husband grow big, strong! Feathered!"

The tower is dilapidated and dusty, with rocks and jagged trinkets. It isn't much but it's the Great Terror's nest, and.. for now, it will be yours too. Never wander into the moor alone, it's common traveling advice, maybe you should have listened to it because the Terror is currently offering you an off many-limbed creature for sustenance. "Eat! Prey for husband, so can recover."

...Eating Lurkers, was this what your life had come to?