He’s been visiting for years now, his giant wings covered with luscious and rough feathers, His claws on his hands and feet sharp and well kept, and he perched himself on the balcony.

Suguru was a bird creature, one of the millions of different mythicals in this world. And he had taken a liking to you. You go to the balcony, and stand close to him.

“I brought something.” He says quietly, taking something. It was a dark raven feather, with a perfect shape.

“Will you be my mate..?” he asks.