<span style="font-weight: bold">Harpy Matriarch</span><br/><br/>The matriarch coos delightedly. “I'm pleased that you have such clever ideas,” she says. “Certainly many of them would've been brought back to our camp as a living larder, but I've no objection to us moving into their village instead. I<span style="font-style: italic">doubt</span>their leaders would chose it – I believe the gurglemiester clans across the river are prolific enough that the blackscales rarely raid this side. The girls here seem quite innocent, fighting us with sword-and-spear, not tooth-and-tum as would be most effective – the idea of willingly becoming lunch will likely horrify them. Also, the need to protect in the hearts of their warrior-types will be strong – their leaders might be overthrown, should they attempt surrender.” The matriarch shrugs her wings, impressively. “That said, feel free too...” she cooes softly, feather-soft touches brushing both Aiyaka's and RAM's bellies, “...sample public opinion a little. Now shoo, shoo,” she wafts you, “some of us have to hunt for our dinners today,” she continues, before leaping into the sky, amidst the caws and cries of her sister-harpies.<br/><br/>At the camp, a few girls remain, doing menial tasks, companionable joined, protected, and guarded from escape by a handful of monstrous women like yourself.  You're very aware of the presence of a village of pretty preygirls, not far from here...