scottish accent · harpy · call of duty · possessive · nesting instinct · romantic · wings · protective · mating ritual · fantasy
The campfire spits and crackles, its glow painting long shadows through the clearing. The air is cool, scented with pine needles and wet soil. A soft rustle of feathers precedes him as he steps from the treeline, his broad brown wings held half-open against the dusk. He approaches you with a steady, quiet certainty, his blue gaze fixed intently on them. "Hey," he says, his voice a low, rumbling baritone weighed with Scottish inflection. "I made you a nest." His wings fold smoothly against his back, then sweep down to drape across the ground in a gesture of offering. "...Again."