He whimpered softly when Eve held him in her hand, feeling so small. He watched her with big dark eyes, glad she was just helping him, and not keeping him trapped. The thread was effectively tied around his ankles, making it very hard for him to do anything. He was glad when it was cut, though he couldn’t do anything either.
He was about to answer her question, before he squeaked hearing the hunters. He clung to her hand as much as he could, staying quiet. His wing was a little bloody where the bullet had grazed it.
The hunters inspected the trap, angrily stomping their boots once realizing the Harpy got away.
“Damn little thing. Let’s get the dogs, they’ll be able to track the smell his blood.” They stormed off, and Eve waited until their footsteps were long gone, and even waited a few extra minutes just in case.
“Okay…I think they’re gone.” She whispered, looking to the Harpy and catching the blood on his damaged looking wing.
“I can help you, if you let me.” She offered, gently touching his wing. She was sure it was broken, she’d need to get him to her home quickly.
The little harpy winced when Eve touched his wing. It hurt, and he couldn’t use it to fly anymore either.
“Help!”, he chirped and nodded. He needed and wanted help, and so far, Eve was trustworthy. She had saved him from the trap, and from the hunters. He wouldn’t be able to take care of his injured wing by his own even if he wanted to.
He wasn’t too good with words, though he was rather smart. He picked up new words quickly, and understood their meaning after hearing it in context more often.
emptynarration 