Arrogant Birds
The air grew thick with an eerie tension as the barrage of attacks slowed to a halt. The slicing winds became softer, the storm of projectiles ceased, and for the first time since the chaos began, the forest held its breath.
The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of disturbed leaves and the pained groans of Ogres and Orcs alike as they steadied themselves.
Volk's radioactive glow dimmed slightly as his sharp gaze shot upward.
Through the clearing smoke and debris, a shadow emerged against the gray sky—graceful and yet mocking.
Wings, broad and feathered, flapped with a smooth rhythm, keeping the figure aloft as it began its descent.
Slowly, deliberately, the creature came into view: a male harpy, his long, sharp talons curled beneath him, his lithe body draped in dark feathers that shimmered faintly under the dim light.