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Aello CH 2 -- Love Grows By: Tyvara

The next morning, Deon kept his eyes closed -- fearing he'd be back in his bed, and that everything he remembered from the day before was the most vivid dream of his entire life. His heart hung in his throat as he took in deep breaths. The dusty smells of stones and the salt of the ocean wafted through the air. A warm body nestled between the crook of his arm and his chest and a gentle breath ruffled his feathers.

Feathers? He quickly opened his eyes, seeing the ceiling of the small cavern above him. It wasn't a dream!

Next to him, Caly's barn owl face rested against him. Deon stared at her, fascinated by her every feature, absorbing every color and curve while she slept. Dark kohl feathers edged the corners of her eyes like ancient eyeliner smudged down along either side of her nose. The accents gave the impression of a beak, although lips hid beneath her feathers. Long black hair cascaded across her light grey cheeks, the ends tossed atop her breasts, parting just enough to reveal the pale flesh of her nipples. She kept her wings tucked below her breasts, with her feathers splayed as if she wore a jostled cape. Her soft breathing blew his ruddy chest feathers back and forth.

Afraid to move and wake her, Deon remained still while he watched her sleep. Even my dreams couldn't invent such a breathtaking creature as the real thing. A real harpy. My mate. His gaze traveled down her body, over her cute stomach, where tiny gray-speckled, cream-colored feathers fluttered with each breath, and along her hips. The way she lay nestled against him with her knees bent, resting against his legs, her curvy thighs hid her sex so that only a cleft hinted at the soft treat beneath them.

A twitch of his balls and a shudder in his shaft demanded his attention. Figures. Morning wood. Even as a harpy.

Still, he didn't want to rouse Caly, so he slowly snuck his free arm from his chest, only to see his wing instead. Fuck! How am I going to do this? Can I do this? Turning over his wing, he wriggled his small thumb to test its maneuverability and discovered that he couldn't grip anything. All he could do was pinch the small thumb to the side of his wing. If he spread his thumb as wide as possible, he could rub one side of his dick. Unfortunately, the sensation reminded him of trying to masturbate with a cast, and he abandoned the idea.

"You know," Caly's voice startled him, "I could help you with that." Her coy smile quirked the corners of her lips.

"I . . . didn't mean to wake you."

She greeted him with a flutter of lashes that made her blood-orange eyes ever more seductive. Her libidinous gaze suggested she'd awoken just as horny as he. "You didn't," she yawned, partly a moan. "I just wanted to rest beside you for a little while longer." Her eyes glanced to his cock, then back to meet his look. "But I couldn't sit here idly when I can help you. Besides, you gave up your hands for this life. It's the least I can do." Caly flashed him a deviously playful grin as she slid her head toward his swelled member.

When her mouth enveloped him, he would have thought she touched perfection by the way she moaned in bliss. Deon's experience had led him to believe that most women would rather do anything else rather than give a blow job, but the sounds Caly made as she slid up and down his shaft, could only be described as enjoyment and delight. The way her tongue swirled from side to side in slow delicate motions, lingering on the sensation or the taste (Deon couldn't be sure), insisted that she reveled in performing fellatio. He rolled his head against the back of their nest, and released a moan that would have been orgasmic, had he shot.

The last blowjob she'd given him, Deon thought, had been the best of his life. This surpassed the first by leagues. The suction, perfect. Her motions, slick. Whenever he glanced at her delighted face, her smiles sated him. Unable to hold back, he felt a bit of pre-cum escape to dab against the roof of her mouth. "That's so good, Caly."

She squealed around his cock, sending vibrations along his moistened flesh. Releasing him she whispered, "Say my name again." After licking the rim of his glans, she returned his prick to the warmth of her mouth.

He couldn't resist giving her what she wanted. "Oh, Caly." Playing with the sound of her nickname, he said it again, "Caly . . ."

This time when she moaned, his dick nestled against her tonsils. The vibrations rippled across his glans like battery-powered pillows.

With a whoop, he squirmed, wanting more but unsure if he could take it all. "Yes!" he said, almost on instinct. "Caly, that's amazing. Just like that!" Her ecstatic squeal at hearing her name again, made Deon want to see what other types of vibrations he could get her to make. That and he didn't want to come just yet. He needed a distraction. A delicious, wet distraction. "Bring your pussy up here." Deon nudged her hip with his wing. "Let me return the favor."

Caly glanced up at Deon and grinned. Without releasing his dick from her mouth, she inched her body around. Her lips swiveled his shaft while her legs inched closer. Once she straddled him, her pussy hovered inches above his lips. The musky smell of arousal mixed with the spicy scent of her feathers filled his lungs. Smelling her awoke his senses. The lapping crash of the ocean outside, the subtle weight of her pressed against him, it all reminded him how real this was. Delighted, he sank back into the task before him. While Caly busied herself with licking and sucking, Deon ran his tongue up her slit slowly, savoring the feel of her wetness sliding along his taste-buds.

Her gasp sent a burst of warm air against his dick, but she continued to suck him. Slowly, she twisted her head from side to side while she bobbed. Her motions served as his personal vortex of pleasure.

Pleased that she had every intention of continuing to suck him, he let himself focus on pleasuring her. In between licks, he groaned whenever she found a spot or motion that was particularly pleasing. Simply teasing her lips wasn't enough. He wanted more. Tonguing past her folds, he soon found the dip into her tunnel. He tasted the sweet wetness of her sex, letting the silkiness of her walls slide over him. Wanting more, he dipped his tongue deeper into her, massaging her walls. When he touched a particularly erogenous spot, her tunnel spasmed, forcing out long melodic rumbles. The flutter forced his tongue to struggle to reach her juicy core.

Her moans increased the vibrations around his shaft, which only served to intensify the sensation of having his member thrust into a whirlpool.

He retreated from her depths, and turned his attention to her clit. He zigzagged with his tongue up and down her perked nub, slapping and flicking it occasionally. Drips of her juices and sent rolled down her pussy lips and added to his enjoyment in licking her flesh.

Delighted squeals filled his ears and sent sharp bursts of her warm breath against the head of his prick. Above his head, her legs shook, crunching into the rocks behind them. Still Caly continued to suck and lick, tightening her lips enough that only stray dribbles of moisture trailed down his dick and around his balls.

The telltale quiver in the root of his shaft signaled his impending climax. But he wouldn't relent until he'd gotten an orgasm out of Caly first. Racing against his own orgasm, he doubled his efforts against her clit, flicking and swirling until she let his cock fall free, and she belted out a long moan.

With his cock exposed to the air, he put all his efforts into encouraging Caly's orgasm. Rapidly thwacking his tongue until his mouth began to ache. Licking. Waiting. About the time his tongue began to cramp, a spurt of liquid jetted against his nose. His feathers dampened with her orgasm, and the delicious smell of her pussy filled his senses.

While reveling in the taste of her, a distinctive whistle caught his attention, the sound of Caly screaming. Digging into her with a smile of triumph, he licked her until her screams dissipated.

The second her quivering thighs calmed, she let out a relieved sigh and returned Deon's cock to her mouth.

Compared with the chill of the cavern air, Caly's mouth shocked him with warmth. When he pulled back from her slick pussy, a trail of her juices followed his lips, only snapping as he let out a groan. His need to climax hadn't really faded, so much as hibernated, and the tight suction of Caly's lips woke his desire with a new fire.

Caly's head bobbed at double the speed. The tightness of her mouth, every slick motion, and her intermittent moans, the warmth of her breasts bouncing against his stomach, all of it intensified Deon's building orgasm. His cock twitched. He wanted to shoot, but part of him still held back, yearning for more.

In control, able to will off his climax for a few more minutes -- until Caly trailed the tips of her flight feathers between his thighs and against his sack. He blurted, "I'm coming!"

Caly moaned her compliance, and deep-throated him.

The instant his dick touched the back of her throat, his vision doubled, his hips jerked, and he came. Keeping his eyes closed, he rode out the waves of pleasure.

Coating her throat with come didn't faze her, and she drank him down. Each swallowing motion flexed around his penis. Her tongue, throat, and tonsils massaged him in subtle suction.

His body tensed as he fired one last spurt of come. With the last of his climax nestled inside Caly, he let out a sigh. Above him, Caly's pussy still glistened from his attentions, and he couldn't resist a quick clit-lick.

She released his dick to gasp. "Oh, Deon . . . no more, please!" Her breathy tone implied both desire, and a touch of exhaustion. "It's too much. My poor clit needs a moment to recover." Kissing the tip of his cock, she then swung her leg around his head, and rolled over him. With her wings splayed askew, she exposed her heaving breasts as she gulped in air. With her legs sprawled apart, Caly offered up a glorious image of her wet sex surrounded by damp feathers.

If Deon hadn't already blown a load, he'd be ready to go again. Happiness filled him, amplified by the throbbing sensation in his balls. His mouth and tongue tingled, and he flexed his tongue to get a bit of feeling back. Everything about this moment held a sort of surreal perfection that he'd never experienced before with any other woman. He'd never been so spent from a blow-job.

Probably because no woman had ever cared enough to try. Most of the women he'd gone after had been beautiful on the outside, but so twisted and damaged on the inside that he'd barely been able to pick up the pieces after they'd revealed their true natures. Callous. Selfish. Deceitful. He'd never gotten a blow job before without having to beg and bribe. Caly was so unlike his past girlfriends that his head still swam at the thought.

What a great way to wake up -- spent, satisfied, and sticky.

He couldn't believe his luck. His whole life he'd thought himself doomed to wander between failed relationships, unable to find anyone who thought him worthy to share his love. Meeting Caly changed all that. She'd accepted him on first glance. He didn't know if the other harpies would, but he hoped for the best. At least he had Caly. It'd be all right if the others didn't care for him as long as Caly liked him.

A nudge against his knee pulled him out of his reverie.

"You ready to learn to fly?" she asked, composing herself a bit. "I'd like to get you strong enough to return home with me. My sisters will be worried if I stay away to long."

Excited, Deon couldn't contain himself. "Absolutely!" He paused, remembering the drop-off at the edge of the cave opening. "So how are we going to do that?"

"We're going to start at the top of the island. There are some great cliffs that should work well as a launch pad." Caly rolled onto her feet and headed for the cave opening.

He followed her, unsure of what she planned. At the mouth, he glanced downward and realized how high up the cave really was. There didn't seem any way in or out of the cave save the opening. "How do we get out?"

Without taking her eyes from the outer walls, she said, "I'll just make a pathway for us."

The images that flew through his mind didn't add up to a quick process. "I know I've only been a harpy for a day or so, but how are you going to make a path?"

She turned and flashed him a reassuring grin. "I can manipulate the rocks to create a walkway that leads up to the top of the island," she said, as if it were as common as picking flowers. "I've always had a knack for getting the elements to do what I want."

"Can all harpies do magic?"

With a giggle, she shook her head. "Try asking Alexyna that sometime. She'd rather be off with her weapons, training or hunting. She leaves the magic and study to Phoibe and me." Turning back to the rock wall, she brought her wings up, obscuring the outer wall.

Her posture expected silence.

After a few moments the cavern began to rumble. Caly clutched the mouth's edge. Her muscles flexed, rustling feathers, and she heaved as she pushed against the wall, straining with the effort. Within seconds, the wall gave way, and receded into itself. What remained was a sloping pathway leading to the top of the island.

Deon's couldn't help his jaw gaping a little. He'd never seen magic beyond the parlor tricks and sleight of hand of the average magician. "That's amazing! How can you do that?"

She turned away with a bashful side-glance. "It took a while to achieve effects at this level . . . but I try to envision the image of what I want in my mind, then use the magic that I've built up to convince the elements to do what I ask. Something temporary, like this, will return to the way it was after we leave. Most elements are very compliant for temporary requests." Caly motioned for Deon to follow her up the pathway. "Phoibe understands this better than I do. You should ask her sometime."

"I will," he said, following her. All this info he'd gleaned about his future mates made him realize that the other two weren't much like Caly. It had him a bit concerned. She'd accepted him on first glance, he didn't know if the others would respond as openly. His only comfort was Caly's approval, and that reassured him enough to push his other fears and insecurities to the back of his mind. He had other, more immediate concerns than mates he hadn't met yet. Like walking. The incline of the pathway had a smooth, almost rain-worn texture to it that would have made the trip easy -- except that Deon still found walking with his odd kingfisher feet unnatural. With his toes spread out around what used to be his ankle, his center of balance was unfamiliar, so he had to focus on every step.

At the top of the cliff, Deon surveyed the island. From the ledge he could see the entire span. He hadn't expected it to be so small. The only part of the island that didn't end in cliffs was a sandy beach, just beyond them. Deon imagined that from the sky the whole island probably looked a lot like a warped infinity symbol or a bloated oval. Across the farthest corner of the island a large, rubicund-barked tree stretched out its curved limbs like a wind sculpted hand: the largest and only plant around other than long golden grass. When Deon noticed Caly out of the corner of his eye, he stood back, watching her.

She clawed at the ground, digging her toes into the dirt, then unfurled her wings so that the wind ruffled through her feathers, enough that her primaries tousled in the breeze. "There's a bit of wind now," she said glancing back at Deon. "I could probably convince the wind to billow a bit more to help lift you on your first flight."

"Okay . . . so what do I do? I've never exactly flown before." Deon chewed his lip nervously.

"Oh, well, just spread your wings wide and lean forward until you find your center of balance." Caly demonstrated by creating a T-shape with her body. "Angle your wings so you can feel the wind blow over your feathers without disturbing them. It won't be perfect, but it should feel right."

Deon looked at her skeptically, quirking a feathery eyebrow. "Don't worry." She flashed him a reassuring smile. "The ocean will catch you if you fall, and I can get the wind to carry you far enough that you'll have plenty of depth."

"So . . . I'm going to fall?" His stomach dropped a little as he glanced out at the ocean beyond the cliff's edge.

Caly shrugged. "That depends. But I'd rather take precautions just in case." After looking him up and down, she rushed forward and pressed her body against his, wrapping her wings around him in a deep embrace. "I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you. It's been so long waiting to find you. No matter what, you'll be safe."

With her breasts squished against his chest, Deon's frayed nerves morphed into a stirring of arousal. When she kissed him with a quick, tender touch, his muscles released all the tension he'd been holding. He wrapped his arms around her. In that moment, Deon believed he could do anything -- even fly. "Okay. Is there anything else I should know?"

"Yes. If you give yourself a running start, and leap at the ledge, that should give you an extra boost." She released her grip, brushing him reassuringly with the tips of her stiff primaries. "I'll do what I can to keep the wind going. But the rest is up to you." She folded up her wings and sat, feet tucked underneath her so that her tail covered her talon-tipped toes like a gray-speckled sarong of feathers.

The cliff, now serving as his runway, stretched out before him. All that remained was the task before him. Learn to fly.

He stalled.

Sweat collected between the feathers of Deon's forehead. His body poised forward with wings outstretched, just as Caly had shown him. A warm breeze rippled through his primaries, urging him to leap into the air. All right, it's now or never.

Still, his legs didn't budge.

Beyond the cliff, waves broke against the shore with a rolling crash. He counted them in his hesitation, hoping the next rumbling splash would spurn him into action.

A million thoughts filled Deon's mind: most concerned how he'd embarrass himself with Caly sitting nearby watching him. He'd never been much good at anything. Why would that change now? Caly's affection had to be a fluke. But the last thing he wanted was for Caly to witness him fail, and realize she'd made the wrong choice. All his life he'd hoped for a glimpse of this kind of happiness. Transforming into a kingfisher harpy gave validation to years of dreams about a body he never thought he'd have. His fantasies had become realized in his new mate, a real barn owl harpy, more perfect and beautiful than any of the stories he'd read. Caly was better than any story, not just because she was real, but because she loved him. She accepted him. The last thing he needed was for her to realize she'd been stuck with anything less than what she deserved.

The other fear that gnawed at him was that this might be one of those dreams where if you fall, you wake up before you hit the ground. I don't want to wake up. Not ever. I couldn't go on if this turned out to all be a dream. The more he thought about it, waking up, was what bothered him most. All that he'd experienced in the last few days was dream-like perfection that waited for a jolt of awareness to bring him back to reality. He'd never been so happy before, and he wasn't in a hurry to end that happiness.

Instead of running off the cliff's edge, he wriggled his toes between the coarse grasses.

When he glanced at Caly, he caught the expectant look on her face. Perhaps controlling the wind took more effort than convincing rocks to move. He was too new to magic to be certain.

"You know," she said. "It'll be easier if you catch the breeze before it leaves. I can only keep it going for so long."

Deon rotated his shoulders to shrug off his discomfort. "All right." Really, move your feet, he scolded himself. Just jump! If you never jump, you'll never know. Nodding resolutely, Deon stopped looking at the ledge, and turned his sights to the cloudless sky above him.

When his feet shook in anticipation, Deon took that as a signal to run.

The wind rushed through his feathers and lifted his wings. His entire body thrummed with the urge to jump, to catch the wind and float. Right before his toes touched the edge of the cliff, he did. Soaring into the air, the breeze banked him left, but still, he rose higher.

He beat his wings against the wind. The stroke burned his muscles from the strain, and he almost didn't want to raise his wings again. A sudden gust of wind snapped his wings into an upstroke anyway. Instantly, he caught another updraft, climbing higher. When he looked down, the lapping waves below appeared as aqua snakes slithering across a cerulean desert. The wonderment of what he'd done filled him with more emotions than he could name. His whole body caught on the wind, like a perfectly balanced figure on a wire. I'm flying! It's really happening. It's really real.

Everything possessed an ethereal perfection from his new vantage point, telling him in every way that he'd finally found the moment he'd been searching for his entire life. To feel wind ripple through his feathers, to exist in a state between earth and sky, sent waves of excitement through him. He never knew what freedom meant until this moment. All those dreams prepared me for this, he thought with giddy joy, so I'd know that although I'd been born a man, I was destined for a harpy's body.

The moment passed, and the sky appeared to slip away -- as if traveling backward. The wind died. He'd begun to fall. With nothing left to lift him, he tumbled backward.

All sense of direction vanished. His head spun. Everything looked blue, as if the ocean and sky had become one swirling mass around him. Only the lurch of his stomach and the whipping wind told him he still fell.

Somewhere in the distance he heard Caly's voice scream, "Flap your wings, Deon! Please, flap."

Through the panic, her desperate plea wormed into his mind and gave him a burst of strength. He brought his wings together. When he pumped back, he flipped forward and plunged head first into the ocean.

The splash blasted his face and feet with cold. The wetness barely seeped through his feathers, keeping his flesh only mildly insulated from the cool Mediterranean waters. He floated, submerged, and then the wafting current thrust him sideways. The force reminded him how desperately he needed air. He spun, searching for the surface. After a couple strong kicks, he burst above water.

While he filled his lungs with the sweet relief of air, he took a second to scan his surroundings, ignoring the wet, blue feathers distorting his vision. He'd fallen within easy sight of the shore. Waves pushed him toward land, so he stuck out his wings and coasted. He still shook from the ordeal of falling, and the sloshing ocean did little to quell the spinning swirling sensation in his head.

A shadow flew overhead, and it startled him enough to look up while he swam.

Above, Caly soared perfectly, slicing through the wind with a natural grace. She barely needed to flap to keep herself moving. She sailed beyond him, heading for the shore. Then with pointed toes and a rapid wing flutter, she landed on the beach in a flurry of sand.

Shame sunk his heart like a lump of lead, weighing him down, almost removing his strength to kick. Nevertheless, Deon swam shoreward. I'm just a moron in a bird suit compared to her.

As he neared the shore, Caly rushed out to meet him, eyes filled with worry and her feathers flattened in panic. Only Caly's toes were submerged in the surf by the time Deon reached a shallow enough part of the foreshore to stand. When he did water cascaded from his feathers, as if each possessed miniature waterfalls, the splashing ostentatious, and only served to worsen the awkward moment.

"Are you all right?" Caly asked, her concern amplified in the tone of her voice.

"Just a little unsettled." Deon kept his eyes turned away from Caly. "I've never fallen from the sky before."

Silence followed.

He tried not to look at her, afraid to see the contempt or disappointment he feared waited for him, but he couldn't resist.

She didn't show contempt, or disappointment. Instead she wore a quirky smile and attempted to cover her giggles with her wing.

Her laughter stung worse than the expected contempt, buzzing through his flesh like a saw. Deon couldn't feel any lower. It brought back too many memories of past experiences with women. He'd been the butt of women's ire before, they only ever laughed when they were cruel. He didn't want that. Not from Caly. "What!" His sharp tone came out angrier than he'd intended.

She stopped giggling, but still smiled, pointing her wing at him. "You have seaweed stuck in your feathers."

Great! I look like a moron. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Blindly, he searched his body for the dangling weeds.

Shaking her head, Caly pointed at his face. "No. It's all stuck to your head feathers." She sucked on her lip, biting back another laugh.

He jerked his wings to his head, and his small thumbs found slick strands of seaweed tangled there. Gripping them, he tugged them from his feathers. As he tossed the weeds back to the sea, he glanced at Caly.

She'd returned to hiding her face with her wing.

"What now?"

"It's not important." The way her nose feathers fluttered, like a subversive snicker, just worsened her mocking. It had the distasteful familiarity of past girlfriends, disappointment and shame.

"Oh come on!" he snapped. "Don't play silly girl games with me." He threw another piece of seaweed into the surf. "You're a harpy. I thought you were above that kind of thing."

Caly fell silent. Dropping her wings to her sides, she stared at the ground and shuffled her talons in the wet sand.

Not the reaction he expected.

He hadn't meant to yell like that, but he was still too angry and humiliated to say anything else. When he slogged from the water, Caly scrambled backward to get out of his way.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't mean --"

"Forget it!" he growled, his anger getting away from him. He couldn't take it back, and had he been alone he would have punched himself for his stupidity. All he did was make things worse, so he kept his mouth shut as he stomped through the last of the damp sand onto dry. Soft, warm granules coated his toes up to his ankles, clumping and rubbing around his foot scales, getting caught between the crevices of his new backward facing toes. It all reminded him of his transformation. This was only his second day as a harpy. Nothing was familiar to him. How could I expect to impress her on my first time flying? I'm lucky I'm not dead.

Embarrassment still pulsed in his ears as if his drums might explode any second. He wanted to run anywhere as long as it took him away from Caly, away from feeling like an overconfident fool. At the same time, he didn't want to dash off in tears like a pathetic child. He'd already yelled at her, he didn't need to make it worse.

While he picked ocean matter out of his feathers, Caly remained silent. Unsure what to say, he became very aware that he'd snapped at her and her silence was his own fault. Yet everything he wanted to say still swirled around his anger. Years of venom directed at other women who'd hurt him, threatened to rage at the one person who deserved none of it. Rather than vent he said, "Look . . . I'm not ready to fly today." He resumed walking up the sand, scraping his feet against the grass to dislodge some of the clumped mud, keeping his speed casual. "Just give me some time."

Too nervous to look back, he didn't. He couldn't. What if she's angry, or worse, what if she's crying. Anger he could deal with, that's what he expected from women -- But I hate it when girls cry. I just don't know what to do, especially if she's crying over me. That was Deon's ultimate low blow, to watch a girl in tears because of something he did. And he already felt like an ass. He wasn't about to shove his foot further down his throat.

He left the beach, heading up a grassy hill. Behind him, the barely audible rustle of Caly's owl wings told him she lifted into the air.

Deon exhaled in relief, yet he couldn't shake the urge to crawl into a hole and never come out again. Despite how badly he needed her to leave him alone, he didn't really want her to go anywhere. It's probably for the best. He sighed to himself. At least with her gone, I can't make it worse.

A huge tree crowned the top of the grassy knoll. Its branches stretched out as if the winds had sculpted it into a cupped hand, so it could provide the only shade on the entire island. He sat beneath its boughs while he waited for his feathers to dry. Fortunately, the ocean water weighed him down only slightly, and it didn't take long for the excess to turn into crystals of salt that fluffed off his feathers.

Another zephyr rustled through the leaves and blew his feathers. He turned over his wings and glanced at his teal flight feathers, then to the tawny orange feathers lining his inner arms and stomach. Why couldn't everything be like it was in the movies, where dreams come true and everything works out perfectly? Why did he have to care so much about things unfeeling women had done to him? Why did his failings have to haunt him in his new life? I'm not the same anymore, or that person I used to be. If I want to let go of everything that's happened in the past -- I can. He liked that thought. To let go of everything he'd been through, and start fresh with Caly held heaps of appeal. She wasn't aware of all the stupid, selfish, and cruel women he'd attempted to pursue, and he didn't want her to know.

Deon let his gaze wander overhead. Allowing his thoughts to wash over him, he took a moment to watch the leaves rustle. Some of the largest branches hung low, but just beyond jumping reach.

I wonder . . .

He stood, and sure enough, the branches were too high for him to grasp. Leaping into the air, he flapped his wings. His efforts lifted him higher, but as soon as he stopped flapping to grasp the branch, he fell to the ground in a cloud of salt dust. A mixture of saline bird flavors filled his mouth, making his lips curl in distaste. Rather than experience that taste again, Deon took the time to shake out his feathers until the salt cloud dissipated, before righting himself to try again.

This time the breeze lifted him higher, but still not enough to get himself into the tree. At least, when he fell again there wasn't any unpleasant aftertaste.

Standing resolutely, he back-stepped to get a running start. With wings spread wide, Deon lifted his tail into the air. Without Caly as a distraction, Deon could better concentrate on the feel of wind blowing through his feathers. Adjusting the angle of his wings, he noticed the different sensations the wind created.

It took him a few alterations to get the wind flowing over his wings correctly. When he did, every feather alined, so that even as the breeze picked up not a single fluff of down blew out of place. His body tingled and itched as excitement and anticipation bubbled within him like a pot about to overflow. Filled to the brink, he let the fervor fuel him, and he burst into a sprint.

Nearing the tree, he had only so many choices: jump, stop or crash.

He jumped.

His wings sliced through the air, and the wind carried him upward. For a split second, that same lighter-than-air feeling filled him -- until his feet caught on the tree branch, and he spun his way back to the ground. Crashing head first, his vision went black and swirled with multicolored spots. Panic washed through him, and he scrambled to his feet. Unable to control his legs right away, he wobbled back and forth with his winged palms clutching his head.

After a few shaky moments, the spots faded along with the blackness, giving way to the familiar sights of the grassy island. With a relieved sigh, Deon sat while his head still swam. As much as he didn't want to try that again, he had to. Hopefully the next time around will end without a face full of dirt instead of cracking my head, he thought, almost annoyed at his own failures, regardless of how new he was to his harpy body. He didn't care. He wanted to get the hang of this. He didn't want to be the sole reason for all the delays. Caly still had a family waiting for her to return, and the longer he took, the more obvious it would be that he was a failure and she'd been stuck with a worthless mate. Caly witnessing his failures was one thing, but having to explain it to her two sisters would only make his inadequacies worse.

Once his swirling vision subsided, he attempted standing. Shaky and a bit dizzy, he dusted himself off, and turned to face the tree again. "I'm not going to be bested by a branch," he said to no one in particular, but saying it aloud gave him an extra boost of determination.

Deon crouched into position again, adjusting his wings until all his feathers aligned as before. He sprinted forward, aiming to land on the same branch. As he ran, he gave his wings a couple of extra flaps. The wind lifted him, and when he jumped he got an additional boost. He sprung higher than expected, sailing over the branch. Keeping his toes pointed he hoped to avoid snagging himself again, but when he looked down he realized he'd flown beyond the branch and neared the edge of the cliff. Panicked, he covered his head with his wings. No longer flapping, he plummeted to the ground with a thwack that rattled his entire body.

Vibrations tingled through his limbs. He lay there in the dirt, his head still covered. "I can't believe I just did that!" he said into the dirt. "What kind of idiot stops flying the second he looks at the ground?" A little voice in the back of his head whispered: The kind who used to be a man. But he dismissed it. Releasing his head, he pushed himself upright.

Behind him, the large tree taunted him with rattling leaves knocked about by the wind. "I'm going to get on that branch." Deon growled at the tree and prepared to jump. After going through all the motions of aligning his feathers, checking the wind, and readying his feet to jump, he bolted. Before he reached the tree, he sprung high into the air.

With a few flaps, and feet tucked up to his chest, he made it over the first branch. Thinking quickly, he thrust out his legs, and grabbed the branch with his feet. He held on as tight as he could, and folded his wings inward to keep the wind from carrying him off the branch. He wobbled only a little but maintained his grip.

When he was certain that he wouldn't fall, Deon's shoulders slumped as he let out a sigh. "Finally!" Sidestepping, he moved toward the trunk. Unfortunately his new feet weren't as good at walking sideways; and while one foot gripped, the other slipped, sending his legs in opposite directions.

Something pulled deep inside his groin, and a flash of pain shot up and down his leg. Deon let out a scream, and his grip wavered. To keep from falling, he spread opened his wings and flapped. That gave him enough push to stay on the branch, but he was only able to back up to the trunk before the pain in his groin became too much to endure. He kept his back against the trunk, and slumped to a sitting position. Exhausted and loath to move, Deon rested with his legs outstretched along the tree branch.

After a few deep breaths, the pain in his leg began to fade. Still, Deon barely moved his head to venture a peek at the distance to the ground. I'm not going anywhere with my leg hurting like this, he thought, settling against the trunk and resting his wings atop his stomach. His only consolation was making it onto the branch. Despite it all, he'd accomplished something.

For lack of anything better to do, he twiddled his stubby thumbs. At least these new wings still function like arms. It's hard enough getting used to these weird feet; this would be so much worse if I had more typical bird wings. His mind began to wonder what it would feel like to have his wrists pressed against his shoulders, and walking around with his primaries tucked behind his back. He shook his head to rid himself of the strange images and sensations.

Deon waited in the tree, exploring his new body: wriggling his toes, so he could see how best to control them (which served as a test for how badly he'd pulled his groin muscle); stretching out his wings and feeling the wind tousle his feathers; flapping to see how the wind moved; and generally passing the time until he felt he could slip out of the tree.

It wasn't until the sun began setting that he decided he'd better get down, or he'd be up there all night. The other thing that kept him in the tree so long was that he still had Caly, and the things he'd said to her, lingering in the back of his mind. He'd done a great job avoiding thinking about what he'd said to her, and how he'd made her feel, but returning to the cave they shared would soon make that impossible. Unfortunately, he either returned to the cave or spent the night in the cold, and as an ocean breeze picked up, sending a chill through his feathers. He didn't relish the thought of freezing just to avoid an unpleasant conversation.

Inserting his thumb-claws into the knobby twists of the tree trunk, he climbed down, using his good leg to steady himself. It wasn't a very harpy way to get out of a tree, but better than hurting his leg further. At the bottom, Deon headed to the cliff where Caly's pathway still led to their cave.

The closer he got to the entrance, savory smells began to filter to his nose -- roasted fish and some kind of herbs. He'd never been good at cooking so whatever it was smelled delicious. The aroma started a rumble from his stomach. He realized he hadn't eaten much of anything since he'd woken up in the cave the day before.

Now he couldn't think of anything else but food.

Peeking into the cave, he took a good long whiff, and drool dribbled from his mouth that he hastily wiped away with his wing.

Their cave appeared about the same, save for a new section in the middle that sported a small, brazier-like covered oven formed from the cavern as if the walls had molded into the familiar shape naturally. In the corner across from their nest a circular basin was filled with water. It reminded him of some cross between a tub and a natural-springs pool.

Caly sat on her haunches stoking the fire with a long stick. Only a wispy plume of smoke trailed from the brazier oven, keeping to the top of the cave, and dispersing as it reached the open air. "You've changed things a bit," Deon said, stepping into the cave.

Without looking up, Caly replied. "Yes. I figured you'd be hungry and sore after a day of flight practice." Her voice held her soft shyness, but almost passionless in tone. "The transformation usually keeps the body in a neutral state until the first flight. Phoebe taught me all about the transformation in case I ever received Zeus' signal. So I spent my time fishing." Poking at the fish roasting in the brazier, she continued to avoid him. "I managed to catch a few fish, and traded the ones we wouldn't need for flat bread and herbs from a tribe of Hestian Nymphs. The local tribes are all allied to the local Harpy clans. It's a good thing too; otherwise all I could offer would have been bland, salt-baked fish until you get the hang of flying."

Although her words didn't imply an insult, Deon still winced.

She nodded toward the tub. "That's for you to soak your muscles in, and wash some of the past few days off of you. The Nymphs gave me some herbs to ease your aches." She didn't sound mad, just . . . distant.

"Thanks. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I smelled that fish." He paused, rethinking what he wanted to say. He wanted to give her an apology, but he struggled to figure out the right words. "I could really use the soak too. I pulled some muscles pretty bad today." He mentally grumbled. What's wrong with me! She deserved more than trite conversation. "Look," he began, "I'm really sorry I snapped at you today . . . . I just thought I'd be better at flying. Everything had worked out so well so far, and I hoped flying would be one of those things. I shouldn't have taken out my frustrations on you. You don't deserve it." He avoided mentioning his past issues with women, the mocking, the rudeness, wanting to impress her despite his lifetime of failures. An apology lost the effect if he spurted out a string of excuses.

Finally, Caly looked him in the eye, but she didn't rise from her haunches. "I didn't mean to laugh, or hurt your feelings." She turned back to the brazier-oven. "When I saw you fall . . . I didn't know what would happen. To see you stand and walk out of the water, I knew you'd made it out alright. Between my relief and seeing you look like Medusa's water drenched cousin . . . it just sort of . . . came out laughter."

Taken aback, Deon struggled with how to react. Never in his entire life had a woman apologized to him. Especially after something that was largely his fault. She's not really a woman, Deon told himself, she's something else. Maybe that's what makes her better. He walked toward her and knelt by her side, brushing his wing against her cheek.

She sighed against his touch.

Her reaction gave him a boost of confidence to say more. "I really appreciate everything you've done for me. Not just the food and the bath, but everything: turning me into a harpy, introducing me to this world of magic, showing me that I can fly -- even though I'm not very good at it."

"Yet," she added, looking up at him with a smile. "You'll get the hang of it. You got your first taste of the wind, and I know you can do it again. Flying for your kind doesn't always come naturally, but you could have done a lot worse when you fell."

He nudged her shoulder playfully. "Did I really look like a Medusa?"

"As close as a harpy could manage. I'm just glad the seaweed cushioned your fall." Caly reached into the brazier, removed a skewered stick of fish, and handed it to him, along with a disk of flat bread. She'd split the fish and baked it along with the scales and head, but he only needed to tug gently with his teeth to pull the flesh from the crispy skin. The savory fish melted in his mouth, leaving the subtly sweet aftertaste of white-fleshed meats on his tongue. He ate everything but the skin and head, before looking to the oven for another.

Caly took the fish remains with a chuckle and handed him another. "So you're not going to eat the heads?"

Deon shook his head between mouthfuls of fish and bread.

"Mind if I eat them?"

Quirking his brow at her, he again shook his head, gulping down a huge bite. "I'm not sure I could eat the part that looks at me."

Caly shrugged. "Your tastes may change as you grow more accustomed to your body. There are many delicacies of our kind that you'll miss out on with that attitude."

"If I ever get a craving for heads, I'll let you know." He grinned, and handed her another fish head, looking toward the oven for another.

Caly switched his fish head for another whole fish and disk of bread. "Thanks."

Deon didn't watch her eat the heads, instead focusing on his own meal. After three fish and five rounds of bread, his stomach finally stopped grumbling, but he still wanted more. He looked toward the oven longingly, but Caly only took his remaining fish head and ate it.

Instead she offered him a rock cup filled with water. "You need to wait until tomorrow before you eat again. Your stomach needs time to adjust."

Taking the cup, he debated whether the contents were fresh or salt.

Echoing his thoughts, Caly said, "It's fresh. Phiobe taught me a spell to filter out the salt through the rocks. All earth has its own reservoir of fresh water, the trick is to find it and tap it. With my magic, I can draw the water to me." She extended her wing toward the tub, which on closer inspection was three pools: the smallest above, and filtering down to the two larger ones. "The top two are fresh water pools, and the largest one is filtered from the ocean. I had to redirect a few steam vents to heat it, but it should help your muscles. The nymphs told me that their herbs would do what the heat doesn't."

"Great! I could use a good long soak. After all the work it took trying to fly into those tree branches, I'm a bit tender in places." He didn't want to mention the slip. Might as well focus on something he did right today.

"That's a good idea to build up your muscles that way." She looked impressed. "You definitely need more power in the chest to beat your wings."

"I'm not used to using some of these muscles this way, and it's all really strange." He shrugged.

"You shouldn't worry yourself about it. Your body is very new. It takes time."

Deon perked up at her reassurances. "How long does it usually take male harpies to get the hang of things?"

She shrugged. "I think you're the first male in our generation to transform." She paused, her eyes squinting in thought. "At least . . . we've never heard of another male from any of the other harpy clans. We don't know how many Zeus born exists."

Intrigued, he prodded further. "Does every harpy get their own mate?"

She shook her head. "That's why we group up with other harpies. There have never been enough males to go around, and all hatchlings are female. It perpetuates our curse. Though, we suspect that while Zeus may still partake of mortal women, as he's always done, there's no hint that Hera is offended by his dalliances."

"You call your form a curse, but you were born this way. You can do things no one from my world could ever do, so what's so horrible about living as a harpy?"

"It's lonely for one. Some clans never live long enough to find their mates and spend their entire lives in yearning. There have been males in the past that haven't survived the transformation. Others refuse to live as one." Caly's face turned sad and she looked away. If he didn't know that the black markings around her eyes were colored feathers, he'd suspect to see a tear smear her kohl features. "Those are the harpies your kind writes stories about: The ones that lure ships into rocks and seduce men to their deaths. They never get over their loneliness."

"But you found me." Deon nudged her shoulder with his.

She met his eyes and grinned. "Yes, and I'm so glad I did." Leaning forward, she kissed him lightly on the lips. "If you want to do some flying tomorrow, you should slip into the bath. It'll do your body good."

Nodding, Deon stood and moved toward the basin. He sat on the edge and dipped in his toe to test the water. The warmth reminded him of natural springs spas he'd visited during his human life: heated to a safe soaking temperature. His entire body ached to sink into the water, so he did, lounging against the sloped cavern indent that served as a seat. Immediately, the water seeped between his feathers and soaked his skin. His shoulders slumped and he let himself float in the warm water, eyes closed, enjoying the warmth untwisting deep knots that he hadn't realized were there.

After a while of blissful relaxation, he opened his eyes and sat up to see Caly tending to their sleeping nest. "Do you want to soak with me?" he asked.

"I'm alright." She kept her attention on the nest. "I took a bath earlier to test the water and adjust the temperature. It's easier for me to do it in the water."

"So, what are you doing over there?" Deon peaked above the bath to get a better look.

"I traded food for some bed coverings to make our nest a bit more comfortable. Your muscles will notice the rocks much more now than you did last night."

"Did you get that from the nymphs?"

"Yes. The Nymphs of Hestia spend their time in the pursuit of homemaking skills. Since they don't gather or hunt, they rely on other groups to do so for them, and we trade our food for their goods. Another reason why I chose this island; their tribe is so close."

"Couldn't you just make yourself an island?"

Caly giggled. "It takes a lot of effort to pull up all that earth from the ocean floor. Even if I did, there certainly wouldn't be grass or trees on it. It'd just be a craggy mound." She looked up from their nest and walked toward the edge of the rocky pool. "I mean, I can encourage plants to grow, but I still need seeds or else there's nothing to help grow." Resting her arms on the edge, she leaned forward squishing her breasts together.

The way her cleavage elongated in that pose looked so appealing, though he wished he hadn't hurt his leg earlier. A hard on wouldn't really help him now. He ignored how attractive she looked, and focused instead on the conversation. "Makes sense."

"Besides, I'm not so good that I could get a tree to grow that big in so short a time. That would take a tree nymph or other earth based creature. Harpies are mainly air based. I'm fortunate that I can manipulate the elements I can. It's all only temporary. After we leave this island everything I've change will revert to its original state. All that'll be left is the cave you woke up in the other day."

Deon looked around and then asked, "Is there anything to dry myself off with?"

"Are you ready to get out?" Caly pushed herself upright.

"Not quite, I was just wondering."

"You shouldn't need anything; harpy feathers have a coating on them from our sweat that keeps them waterproof. With a little shake you should get most of the water off you."

"So we don't have to preen?"

"We do every now and then. Another reason why harpies live in groups is to help with preening. Hera may have cursed us, but Zeus did bestow on us what blessings he could." Caly said, then shook her head as if to say she didn't want to talk about the subject any more. "Has the bath helped you any?"

"So much." Deon relaxed back into the water. "Thanks for all this. I didn't realize how much I needed a good meal and a long soak."

"I want you to be happy." Caly said, turning around to lean her back against the basin.

Deon bolted upright, splashing water as he did. "Caly, I've never been happier in my entire life." He stood up out of the basin, and gave a great big shake. Water zipped off of his feathers, some drops hitting Caly in the back.

Giggling, she turned around. "Hey! Don't get me wet."

"Sorry." Deon kissed her cheek and climbed out of the basin.

Caly was right. He might be a bit damp, but he was dry enough that he didn't feel drenched. Of all his body parts, his legs and feet were the wettest. He wandered over to the brazier and warmed himself by the smoldering embers.

"Well, I'm glad you're happy." Caly said, following him, to stand in front of him while Deon shook off a few last drops from his feet.

"You made this real." Deon leaned forward and sneaked a lip-smacking kiss. "I'll always be happy with you."

The way she chewed her lip and momentarily looked away, suggested Caly's dubiousness, but she smiled anyway. "Well we better get some sleep. You've got quite a day ahead of you tomorrow. Flight practice takes a lot out of you your first few days." She left him to head toward their nest.

At the mention of sleep, and after that relaxing bath, Deon was ready for a good long rest. His eyes flickered with heaviness as he glanced toward the nest, which now looked much more like a bowl full of lumpy, soft pillows, like fluffy clouds, and followed Caly.

"I've got more hunting to do while you're practicing. I think it's better that way. I don't know how much help I am just sitting there watching you." She paused as she snuggled into the bed, fluffing and rearranging lumps of stuffing. While she did she added, "Flying is a very personal experience. I'm afraid my behavior was a bit too mother-bird with the way I pushed you off the cliff. "

When she settled into one position, lounging with an arm splayed beneath her head, and knees pressed together so that her ass curved in a seductive arch, Deon couldn't help but notice. Even through the hazy desire to sleep, the sight of her started his heart racing. He crawled into bed next to her, unsure whether he wanted to pass-out or play.

The way Caly slid her thigh over his told him exactly what she wanted.

Emotions caught in his throat. The beginnings of his arousal pulsed through him.

Caly leaned across his chest, her lips puckered and wanting.

A hard-on wasn't what his pulled muscle wanted, reminding him with a slicing pain that he wouldn't do anything strenuous tonight. The pain stole his erection away faster than engorging, and Deon panicked. All he could think of was hiding himself. So he pecked Caly on the lips and rolled over, using his wings as a shield to hide his limpness. He had to say something, but he wasn't sure what would hurt her less and still save face. In the end he mumbled, "Muscles . . . too sore. Maybe, sleep -- I'm sorry."

I won't have her laugh at me again, he thought, embarrassed and paranoid. I couldn't bear it if I became a joke to her. He wasn't sure if she'd laugh at him for injuring himself, or losing his erection, and he didn't care. He wouldn't be the inspiration for any of her mocking laughter. Male harpies were for mating. What good was he if he couldn't do that one task? He wouldn't have her thinking him useless.

Caly slid off of him and whispered, "Okay. Goodnight." Rebuffed sadness hung in her soft words, but she still curled up next to him.

Fuck! I can't get anything right. He mentally groaned, but couldn't decide which was worse, her laughter at him over limp-dick, or hurting her because he had denied her. Those thoughts haunted him, even as he fell asleep, twisting his worries into convoluted dreams all of which circled around his many failures and ineptitude. No peace of mind existed that night.

To Be Continued

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Authors Notes:

***EDIT*** Title was changed as there are now two chapters instead of one.

This chapter is pretty long, but I'd had requests to post the first part while I finish the second. As I continue to write the second chapter, I'm working on the third and forth. In the end, I may just make this part CH 2 and the next part CH 3. *** I'll probably drop the titles. I'm not sure yet. Either way I'm enjoying working on this story. I hope you're enjoying it so far.

Thanks so much for reading. ^^

Special thanks to LeiLani for helping me with last minute revisions. Thank you so much. If you like otters, deep-sea diving, and erotica, then go read her stories. They are awesome! ^^