#dying crying weeping surfing horsing around

[soaring-trash]

[justaclassytrashpanda]

Mating Displays

Most humans revered their supernatural kin. Be it the small, dandelion-fluff fae floating and shimmering on the breeze, to the mischievous pixies who peeked from under mushroom heads, they were simply a part of everyday life. 

But some chose to engage with them more closely. Respect and even friendship can be earned with some individuals. Bards sung of Hunters  interactions with roaming herds of Centaurs, of the mutual respect or mistakes made. Some were more feared than others. Harpies, for instance, were accepted in most islands. Either they were tolerated or they were more like feral scavengers, but most folks living in such areas understood this. But even they averted their eyes as men set forth, almost ashamed of something that had been going on for centuries. Usually there were set places; a nice little rock plateau or dried river or some such which was swept and tidied. If one suitor glimpsed another there was a silent awkwardness in which one would slip away to go on a short walk, out of sight, to return when the other had made his claim. Sometimes, and more thrillingly, they challenged each other. Not as some displays went: no wrestling matches or shows of strength. But glares and dominance was challenged and established. This, from crags and overlooks, was noted by watchful eyes. 

The first timers or casual groups were obvious. Though bright and fine clothes was encouraged, extreme gaudiness was noted as being too forward. Too offensive to keen eyes. Bells too were often a sign of simple merriment, and many came and danced for the strange womenfolk, jingling and ringing madly as they flailed and grinned, and, strangely, often got attention from them. Some would come down in ones or twos and circle the performing male, eyes darting all over, head bobbing this way and that, stuck between cautious and amused. The bells and silly display would cause laughter and brief touches to be given. A bell gifted to a Harpy who requested such an amusing bauble or toy could earn a nice rock or feather or somesuch token in return. Many such jesters asked for kisses in return, hence the common expression of “kisses for bells” or “bells for kisses”, when someone offers something of little worth for a high price or vice versa. Young females sometimes risked a kiss on the cheek, or a nuzzle or something just as equally questionable as the Matrons watched on disapprovingly. More often than not playful swats were aimed at the cheeky offender and he would leap and dart away, jingling all the while...not all tolerated such behaviour however. In some cases menfolk simply did not return from the Displays. 

On craggy islands, a few scarred men dared to haul net-fulls of fish before cruel jagged cliffs and shouted over the crash of waves to creatures just as opportunistic and hardy as them. Sometimes they were jeered and pelted with fishbones. Sometimes, the womenfolk were so haughty in their rejection they even left the precious amounts of food to simply rot and stink in mounds where they sat. Othertimes fishermen recognised wing patterns that they often saw diving into the surf to retrieve fish, and there was a foundation of admiration already laid without a word said.

But the serious men came from all over to the flocks that tolerated such pairings. Fresh food, (impressive amounts and varieties) was a good start. Some painted or decorated the performance area. Shows of strength, oratory skill, and dance were all usual choices. Some kept returning for a few years, and eventually would earn favour with one, such as Oswin of Shawworth. A shy boy who came home one night and called his family outside to meet a small and slim figure who shied from the torchlights. They did not know he had gone three years in a row, each time receiving little or no response from the silent trees. Others came boldly, loaded with carts of possessions all laid forth for offerings. Although this did not mean instant reciprocation in displays, it certainly helped in grabbing the attention. A man was to care for his mate, and if he broke said bond then the flock would seek him and harry his livestock, steal and destroy his crops and home, and in extreme cases, torment his family. 

Some brought expensive mirrors and reflective surfaces some harpies found so fascinating. Such were prized objects by all, and so even a simple handmirror was the same as a wedding band. But there were those who went above and beyond. Those who flung open capes to reveal stitched in stained glass that shone and reflected lights that had heads strain over ledges to peer down and had harpies fly down to view in wonder, darting back to settle down with the others and then returning. Many came to circle that particular man (a brash and dramatic merchant of some renown) and though many came forth, a few brushing his shoulders or hair with their fingertips, seeing who he responded to and admiring him closer, he eventually rounded on a young thing, all shy wonder who simply stood and stared and stared. He turned and closed the space between them and he waited for her to show some sign of interest, sensing those around him go from envy to a tense watchfulness. As a human noble he may have swept in to kiss and seduce her, but such forwardness would cause him to be rebuked here. Overcome, the little sparrow fled, much to his disappointment, but then a female was sent to wave him forth, his bride-to-be standing blushing next to who was probably her mother.

 And to the arid south west and furthest east, men tied lengths of silk or cloth to them as they danced, showing muscle and grace much akin to a bird, and this found them a admiring females whose hands brushed over arching backs and curled limbs, reflecting movements breathlessly without realising. Some danced together for some time, such as in the famous tale of The Prince and Inza, showing how man too could be as swift and graceful as they themselves. His dances, his honeysweet words dripping from soft lips, his speed and skill in swordsmanship and on the horse. Most know the story, as it is both historical fact and beautifully laced with impossibilities that only true heroes in love can accomplish. Inza refused to accept all suitors as no human man matched up to her. Even the Prince of the Great Ruler of the Ten Kingdoms did not have her respect. Each and every time he came calling she challenged him at a skill. 

Somehow, he would beat her each time, or at least be her equal. She challenged him to a test of wills, and wandered the desert with her sisters watching from on high. The Prince almost killed himself and collapsed, being delivered to his camp and being kept to recuperate for months. Inza collapsed as soon as she heard she had won, and believed the admirable human to no longer bother her. But the two had bonded over all this time, and the Prince announced how there was no woman of her equal, and even if she were not perfect, he loved her. The Doctors tried to assure his father it was delerium still but the wise ruler shook his head softly and insisted he knew true love’s gentle sureness when he heard it. 

So, having risked death, he returned to her, and Inza felt more respect for him than even any of her sisters or any she had met before, but Inza’s need to be better still controlled her. His success and affection made her flush with confusion, desire, and anger, and so insisted upon an impossible challenge: he was to shoot a target carried in her claw with an arrow. Inza was of those fast, predator types, and to even keep up with her over the dunes was a struggle. Then to release the reigns of his mighty steed and try and shoot further than a human eye could see? No man would agree to it, unless he were a fool!

But, as before, he simply bowed and agreed to her terms, his quiet confidence and bravery shown so gallantly prickling her. But for once she found her tongue unable to call him a fool, for when she had in the past, it had been when she first met him, and thought him some arrogant idiot who expected everyone to fall at his feet due to his wealth. A fool he was not. Inza was astounded when he kept pace with her. She rose higher in the air and was infuriated to see him take his bow and notch an arrow, training it on her! Infuriated, she darted sideways, smiling to herself in her cunning. He would have to stare into the hot desert sun to shoot.....he wouldn’t be able to. But the man so loved Inza he stared into the sun and loosed his arrow, falling from his horse with a cry a second before the arrow, sent wide from his tumble, pierced Inza’s leg and she shrieked out her pain, clutching at her leg. Looking down, her rage dissipated as she saw a small speck rolling down a dune....a body of someone who had come to mean much to her. Diving, she landed and limped, then fell to his side. Cradling him, she rolled him over. Blinded and defeated, his first words were only of concern for her, and he feared he had killed her with the arrow when he heard her scream. To know she was dead as he staggered about the desert dying would truly be the most horrible yet just cosmic act for his foolishness. But, sobbing, Inza insisted he was no fool, and it was she who was. Her pride had caused her not only to reject a desirable coupling, but to cause this beautiful man to fall so low....thus, weeping, she stayed with him until her sisters came and helped them both back to where both men and winged woman stood waiting breathlessly. Time passed; his blindness faded, and her wound healed. The two were inseparable, changing how the many lands under his rule saw harpies, and spawned the beautiful Winged Princes of that mighty Empire’s Golden period.... 

And still, on certain dates presently, men steal from their homes, dressed as brightly as fools, laden with goods like merchants, and with shifty eyes and guilty expressions like naughty schoolboys, perhaps hoping to find their own Inza...