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Here's the thing. Most of Helovia doesn't actually care about what's happening here. The squirrels and fish have shed 0 tears about any of the deaths that have occurred. While you stand sobbing and accusing, the world moves on.
Does that sound harsh? Cynical? Distant?
Let me ask you this. How many of the other bodies have you cried over? Just the ones that meant something to you? Well. News flash. You all mean nothing.
Except that isn't entirely true. Because the entire while someone has taken notice. You do mean something to someone.
Or at least one of you does.
She comes faster than any of you might have been able to process. Her body is a blur of various shades of black. Dark feathered appendages meld with the torso of some humanish creature. Black eyes peer from behind a wicked face, as huge eagle claws extend downwards and in one easy motion grasp the newborn child.
Good luck fighting THIS, Warlord, her laugh seems to suggest as her avian body soars upwards, clutching Macaria. The Harpy drops off of the side of the Island, not needing the assistance of the clouds that serve as magical elevators for those without the gift of flight.
She heads towards the Dragon's Throat, planning on drowning the child in the Oasis before eating her.
@[Macaria]
