"Nice to see you too," I chirped, removing my socks and stuffing them into my back pocket as I hopped off the porch. The dirt felt warm and inviting beneath my feet, and the occasional sharp pebble that I encountered as I made my way toward her only added to the pleasant sensation.

Preya wrinkled her nose in distaste and exclaimed, "Ugh, you smell like alcohol!"

"Do I smell?" I asked, nervously breathing into my cupped hand as I tried to detect any odors. "I brushed my teeth like a maniac before coming here..."

Preya's lips quirked into a knowing smirk as she assured me, "Only someone with an exceptionally keen sense of smell would be able to detect it, and it's quite impressive that it's still lingering after you drank last night."

"Yeah, last night was a hoot and a half, that's for sure," I laughed, setting my hands on my hips.

She raised a curious eyebrow at me. "Are you implying that owls were involved, or are you just trying to be funny? I can never be sure with you."

"A joke, I guess," I sighed, wiping at my brow and seeing a thin sheen of sweat left on my head. "Why don't we head over to the shade? I'd hate for us to be stuck in this heat and add the smell of sweat to the already strong smell of alcohol."

Preya scoffed in disbelief, "This is nothing compared to winter in my homeland!" She quickly flew over to a nearby tree, and I followed, plopping down wearily against its trunk. Preya, however, was full of energy, leaping up and grabbing onto a thick, low-hanging branch with ease. Her talons clutched it tightly as she squatted down, her knees against her chest.

"Where did you say you're from?" I inquired, my fingers absentmindedly tracing my side.

"I didn't," she commented dryly, her dark eyes piercing me. "But to answer your question, I'm from India, born near the Himalayas. However, as is a common tradition for my people, I never really stayed in one place for too long."

"Yes, it seems that most harpies have a serious case of wanderlust," I mused, shifting my position to avoid the protruding root.

"Most," Preya conceded, "but not all. Unfortunately, some poultry harpies lack the desire or the courage to leave their homes."

"But don't they play a crucial role in harpy villages?" I inquired. "Isn't their egg production the most significant export of harpies?"

Preya huffed and folded her wings tightly against her sides. "It's true that without them, acquiring certain goods would be quite a challenge," she said. "Maybe it's a good thing they don't wander off. Their survival instincts are definitely... lacking."

"That could've been the case after spending so long under the protection of other harpies," I wondered. "If they do not need to fly or defend themselves, why would they still possess those traits? If I were in their situation, knowing I had a village full of raptors protecting me, I would likely become complacent too."

Preya smirked, puffing her chest proudly, and said, "While you're certainly not wrong about the capabilities of raptors, you don't seem like the type that would make a good poultry harpy, given your inability to lay at least ten eggs a day."

"... Thank you?"

Preya nodded at me with a regal dignity that I couldn't tell if it was condescending. "You're welcome," she said. "As for your theories on poultry harpies, they may have some merit, but I'm afraid I have not studied the subject enough to confirm or disprove them."

"Maybe I should talk to that one from earlier," I murmured, recalling the poultry harpy from the Cultural Exchange who had come to help Papi lay her egg. I knew I'd have to talk to Kuroko about finding her eventually, but for now, it wasn't a pressing issue. I shrugged off my curiosity and asked, "So, how have you been?"

Preya replied, with a hint of satisfaction in her voice, as she turned to look at the vast open fields surrounding us. "It's certainly well enough, I suppose. After all the time I've spent in the city, this open space is quite comforting, though it can never compare to the beauty of my homeland."

"Yeah, I can't deny it," I said with a half-smile, raising my knee and resting my arm on it. "The Kuramotos must be quite well-off and seem laid-back too. You lucked out with this stay here; the warm sea breeze, peaceful countryside, far away from the city but close enough in case you need something. I'm a bit envious!"

"They seem to be kind," Preya said, her voice tinged with a hint of hesitation. She glanced back at the house before continuing, "At least, that's what I've observed."

My expression fell a touch. "You getting a bad vibe from them?" I asked seriously.

"I'm not sure what you mean by 'vibe.'"

"A feeling, or instinct, or impression," I explained.

She shook her head. "Ah. Then... no, I can't say I have," she said. Still, her expression remained troubled. "I'm just wary. He had seemed so kind and genuine at first. I refuse to be tricked by sweet words again."

"'He'?"I repeated in confusion until it clicked. "Oh... you meant your first host, didn't you?"

Preya snarled, her talons digging into the bark of the thick branch, causing an audible crack. "Calling him my host is far too generous," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "There is no way I'd ever think of him that way."

I went quiet at that, watching her momentarily before turning away.

"You don't have to stay with him anymore," I said gently, trying to reassure her. "The Kuramotos are different; they won't treat you the same way."

Preya pressed again, her tone now more curious than heated. "How can you be so sure?"

"I've only had a few chances to look around, but my initial impression is that the house is well-kept and cared for. Even the trees in the yard look to have been recently pruned and groomed. I was concerned when I saw the unkempt area, but thankfully the rest of the property seems in good condition."

"It could be that they are more concerned with appearances than actually taking care of their land," Preya suggested.

I nodded in agreement. "Indeed, which makes sense considering their wealth. Generally speaking, wealthy individuals are concerned about their image, though there are always exceptions. In my opinion, the Kuramotos seem to be one of these exceptions."

"Why?"

"The little girl, for one. Was Chinatsu her name?" I mulled it over before shrugging. "Anyway, she doesn't strike me as a stuck-up brat. Still kinda bratty, but that's to be expected at her age."

Preya sighed exasperatedly, "She never seems to cease asking questions; no matter how much I want to be alone, she always has a new set of inquiries every hour."

"Yeah, I got that impression, for sure," I laughed. Hopefully, poor Manako was holding her own back there. "And the boy and his mom seem... well, quite normal."

"Our definitions of 'normal' probably aren't the same," Preya pointed out.

"Fair enough. How would you describe them, then?"

Preya tilted her head to the side, her brown locks cascading off her shoulder. "The boy appears to be at peace with the world around him, stable and steadfast. Yet, underneath the surface lies a mischievous soul, which has yet to be unleashed maliciously."

I nodded in understanding but stayed silent.

"The mother..." she continued. "She is quiet, and when she is not cooking or tending the grounds, she is drawing. Always very simplistic pictures that remind me of harpy art."

"Interesting," I said thoughtfully, scratching an annoying itch on my leg. "But do you have any insights on her personality?"

"Other than always asking if I need anything, no. There is also the father, but he has been busy constantly since I moved in."

The image of the father of Lilith's host family immediately sprang to mind, but I pushed it aside. I refused to be biased against someone I had yet to meet, mainly since the Kuramotos spent time at home.

"Well, with that all said, do you still want to stay here?" I asked.

Preya contemplated the question for a few moments, her deep breath eventually releasing as she tossed her silky, long hair back behind her.

Preya gazed longingly at the clear, sunny skies above and then decided: "For now, the landscape here is much more agreeable and pleasing in its own right. Whether the company here will be equally pleasing remains to be seen; only time will tell."

"Happy to hear it," I said with a big grin. "You know, if I'm keeping you, I can leave."

Preya shook her head, a small smile gracing her face as she looked down at me. "I can fly freely now, thanks to you, so the least I can do is allow myself to be grounded when you are around. I can wait a little while longer," she said.

Well, if that didn't give me the warm and fuzzies, I wasn't sure what could.

I could only muster a quiet "Thank you" response to her statement. There was something in her tone that made me think that it was more meaningful to her than I was aware of. Could it have been a cultural difference, perhaps something only a harpy or raptor would understand?

"You're welcome." Preya inclined her head.

There was a few moments of silence between us, with the occasional background noise from inside the house. I hoped Manako had calmed down from the earlier commotion and was no longer in hysterics.

"So... who's Aello?" I asked, after recalling what Preya had said earlier.

"One of the Three Sisters of Harpy Faith," she replied as if reciting ancient wisdom. "Most Harpies prefer one or the other based on their ideologies. For me and most raptors, it is Aello, the Goddess of Storms, who holds favor."

"Fascinating," I whispered, and I meant it. The various religions of the liminals had not been explored in the Cultural Exchange's handbooks or even their more comprehensive records. Even though I was not a religious person, that did not stop me from finding religion intriguing. "What does it mean for Aello to be the Storm?"

"Strong, filled with nature's wrath, as fast as She is deadly," Preya quickly answered. "She is a symbol that all predatory species at least acknowledge, and typically the most respected by non-harpies. The other two Sisters are..." She grimaced. "Less so."

"How do you mean?"

"There is Ocypete, the Swift," Preya sighed. "She is the source of our 'wanderlust', as you put it, and just as important as Aello. It is because of Her that we feel the joy of boundless freedom. Come to think of it, the little bluebird could be seen as an avatar of Ocypete, such is her spirit."

"Papi?" I pondered, trying to wrap my mind around the harpies' instinctual wanderlust that seemed to conflict with Papi's seemingly unending stay in the city. It was clear to me that most harpies rarely stayed in one place for more than a few days, and I was determined to find out why Papi had been an exception to the rule. Perhaps I would have the chance to ask her about it later.

Yes, I should definitely ask Papi about that. If not, then her mother should be arriving soon, right? She would probably have some useful information, hopefully.

"And what about the third Sister?" I asked.

"Celaeno," Preya eventually uttered reluctantly, with an air of reluctance. "The Shadow. Most harpies do not take kindly to her and that's all you need to be aware of."

Well, that wasn't ominous as fuck.

"If you say so," I said uneasily. I shouldn't be too shocked if certain liminals were wary of a divine beast or two, much like certain humans would be with gods. However, my apprehension quickly grew because divine beasts were real, tangible entities in this world, and powerful ones at that. The notion of one being referred to as "The Shadow" and not even held in high regard by the species descended from her didn't sit comfortably with me.

"I do," Preya said matter-of-factly, clearly eager to change the topic. "But enough of dark matters. What has your life been like since last we met? Hopefully not drowning in alcohol like your breath suggests."

To be continued...