Long ago did a songbird sing, a harpy yellow and golden. His feathers shimmered in the sun and so too did his eyes, for joy filled his heart while he whistled and warbled. All who heard his song felt calm overcome them, and a great many friends he did have. The sunflowers would turn to him as he walked by, the trees would rustle in his direction, Bees would turn from their flowers to gaze at his golden feathers, and from the ground would the worms emerge to hear his ever loving voice. Full of youth the songbird was, with a heart made of love and hope.
One soft evening, with the sky all darkening and shifting, he walked through the sparse forest, as he always did, when in a small clearing he saw a girl lay in a hammock made of vines and leaves. To the songbird she looked utterly foreign, like no being he had seen before. In his curiosity he walked toward her until he stood inches away as she swung in her hammock. She opened her eyes, and seeing the songbird, asked him who he was. To which he replied “I am Vireo, harpy of song. But let me ask: who are you? Where have you come from? Never have I seen someone looking quite like you, with your rounded ears and smooth skin. Are you an Immar experimenting with form? Or perhaps a featherless harpy? And what god do you follow, who do you hail from? O, I am infinitely curious of you. I have met a great many beings and sang to those from all corners of this world, but none have ever looked quite like you.”