Chapter four

Shandris Feathermoon eyed a map of Feralas with a look of trepidation. Her eyes danced over half a dozen locations circled in red, with four of them having large slashes through them. Consternation marred her face as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

"Report," she said suddenly, not turning away from the map. There a pause for a second, before with a hum, a night elf sentinel emerged out of the shadows. She immediately took a knee, her fist planted into the ground. "Ma'am" she began. "The report is the same as the others. They've all disappeared."

Shandris sighed, unsurprised by the report. The question though, is why? She didn't like unknowns, especially with the numerous denizens of this jungle, and to completely lose track of the entirety of the Harpies…

It started two weeks ago. There had been whisper of a disturbance in the jungle on the wind, a conflict. Such wasn't a new occurrence. But shortly after, the enclave of harpies nearby had up and vanished, abandoning their territory suddenly and with seemingly no explanation. Further investigation turned up identical results when scouting the other enclave locations. She just knew it had to do with the savage deaths of the four enclaves crossed out on her map at the hands of the Horde. But this response was…out of character.

"There is also this," The sentinel interrupted her thoughts.

"Hmm?" The sentinel rose to her feet, and reached into her tunic, pulling out a tomahawk. Shandris eyed the weapon in fascination. The thing was a light, sturdy thing, made from hardwood and bone, simple and basic looking, but designed to do what it was meant, with a very startling amount of high quality.

"What is this?" she asked. The sentinel shook her head, as if she couldn't quite come up with an answer. She did however have more to say.

"We located the Horde expedition responsible for the decimation of the four enclaves we found."

Shandris heaved a sigh, relaxing just a bit. She had no love for the Horde. But she had even less for Harpies, those pests, dangerous and deadly. They are a bane. She wondered what the horde found so interesting about them, but then, maybe she was over thinking.

"And what are your opinions? Did the horde attack and kill the Harpies in retaliation to their raiding? I wouldn't be surprised."

"That is my assumption as well ma'am, but...well, that isn't the end of the story."

"What?"

The sentinel gestured to the tomahawk in her hand.

"The Horde expedition we found…they were all dead."

The concern that Shandris had been feeling was just beginning to dissipate until she heard those words, causing it to return with a vengeance. Dammit, she was afraid of that.

"That tomahawk was found at the sight, lodged in the forehead of an orc. Something descended upon them and slaughtered them all. There are broken arrows and spears, and remnants of makeshift traps surrounding the clearing they were camped in. Whatever attacked them had an absurd amount of time to prepare. It was… one of the most efficient Hunts I've ever seen."

The sentinel sounded impressed, and truthfully Shandris kind of was as well. But…

"What does any of this have to do with the Harpies?" she asked.

The sentinel hummed.

"I believe the expedition was transporting a few survivors. There are feathers of varying shades scattered about. And there were cages."

It clicked for the sentinel general suddenly, her eyes narrowed and she turned back to the map.

"They had a rescuer," she concluded. The sentinel nodded.

"Yes."

A rescuer…but. Who…

"Tell me," she began. "Do you believe this rescuer to be Edana Hatetalon?"

The infamous Harpy Queen was well known, a fierce vicious fighter known to descend upon people suddenly, wreaking havoc on any poor soul careless enough to gain her attention. She was also known to be quite protective of her kind. Attacking and killing several enclaves would definitely attract her.

But the sentinel disbanded such thoughts.

"No," was the instant response. Shandris nodded, having suspected as much already.

"The tomahawk is too small to be wielded by a full grown Harpy, let alone a queen. Besides, Harpies are not known for using weapons."

"Indeed," said Shandris.

"This is much too sophisticated a weapon to be any random denizen of the jungle. I suspect it was a do gooder adventurer, an alliance hunter who couldn't stand to see injustice…even it was against Harpies…"

She trailed off when she caught the look in her sentinel's eye.

She raised an eyebrow.

"You do not agree."

"…I…"

"It is okay. Speak your mind."

The sentinel fidgeted, becoming more and more nervous as she tried to find the right words. "Well, Ma'am. I used to hear rumors."

"Rumors?"

The sentinel gave a slight nod.

"Do you remember the jungle man?"

There was a pause. Shandris' eyes widened ever so slightly as the words registered.

That's right.

There WAS another possibility wasn't there? She looked down at the tomahawk in her hand.

The Jungle man. She'd forgotten about him. A mysterious hunter who stalked the jungle, killing night sabers and leaving sentinels stranded in the jungle bereft of all weapons and gear. How long has it been since she'd heard mention of him?

"Sentinel," she said suddenly, all business. "Are there any who have recently encountered this man?" she asked.

The sentinel looked up in thought for a few seconds. "I do not believe so. However there is one who used to be at the center of these rumors."

Shandris frowned. "Where is she now?"

The sentinel looked off to the side, gazing out into the training field. Shandris followed her gaze and found a lone night elf, sitting off to the side, nibbling on a large piece of bread. She certainly was an odd one. Shandris stared, almost incredulous.

She was a slender thing, with long light blue braided hair, light purple skin and glowing silvery eyes. Her face was emotionless as she ate. But there was a wildness about her. Her attire certainly looked it. Her cloak hung from bare shoulders, fastened by a long tooth. It was a full pelt, a nightsaber with white blue fur and snow white stripes, with the head resting atop her own. The legs and paws had been converted into arm coverings and clawed gloves and boots. She wore no armor over her torso, only a furry wrap that covered her breasts, and her upper legs were bare save for the short shorts and dark blue sentinel issued half-skirt that covered her outer thighs and backside. A large Glaive rested at her side, as well as a short sword, a well used bow and quiver of arrows and several throwing knives.

It was a such a unique look that Shandris had a hard time comprehending how it was possible to have missed such a standout.

The sentinel seemed to read her mind, for she elaborated.

"She scourers the jungle for days on end, vanishing often times without telling anyone. She speaks but only when spoken to. And unfortunately, many do not bother. She is seen as…odd. Off in the head." The sentinel shook her head.

"They say she was driven a bit mad when the jungle man killed her night saber companion, and left her to bleed out in the jungle with a spear through the chest. If I remember correctly, you are the one who found and treated her."

It took a second for Shandris to remember, and once she did she felt shame. She remembered her alright, remembered how she had stirred the stronghold into action with tales of a Wildman who defeated her in battle and hunted her companion. She remembers other sentinels as well that had come back with similar stories, and even the patrols she would send her sentinels out on, in order to track this person down.

But then attacks by the Naga forced her attention elsewhere, and the wild man became a second thought after he seemingly disappeared. Had she really left that poor girl to flounder when she had needed help?

"What is her name?" she near whispered. The sentinel cast one last, almost forlorn gaze at the lone elf and answered. "Dalia Nightmoon."

"I see…Please bring her to me."

The sentinel perked up. "At once Ma'am," Then she was gone. Shandris turned the tomahawk over in her hand several times. "The wild man of Feralas," she muttered.

"I wonder…what are you up to now?"

(-)

A Harpy woman gasped in surprise as Anduin suddenly grabbed her arm, gently but firmly yanking her off of the meat rack he had set up, giving her a stern look.

"Oh come on!" complained the woman. "Just a nibble! Please!"

Anduin only intensified his stern stare. The woman pouted. "Tch, you're so mean!" then flew off. Anduin sighed. Syriana walked up to his side, giggling. She leaned into him and nuzzled his chest affectionately. "Aha, do not worry. They will learn."

"Maybe," he grunted.

Syriana's giggles intensified. It had been a month since he had rescued the Harpies and brought them back to his territory. The bird girls had settled in quickly, excited and awed to actually be seeing the fabled Feral King's territory. They delighted in the fascinating things he had to show them and delighted more in the fact that they got to keep all of the shiny new things they looted off of the invader corpses.

After that, Edana had informed him that since the Northspring Harpies were now his, that she had to go to the remaining enclaves to inform them as such, and had vanished for two weeks, only to return with over sixty more flying woman and girls in tow. Anduin's clearing became a hub of constant activity. It was rough at first. Those who had not bore witness to Anduin and Syriana's deeds with the invaders, had a hard time relaxing around him, still full of horror stories about him. Then there was the fact that their Queen herself had submitted them all to the authority of not only this creature, but his crippled Companion.

Some had taken it as an insult and Syriana found herself in quite a few skirmishes. They had been viscous, bloody affairs, but the one armed girl shocked the new comers when she won every fight.

"The invaders were better," she had said, raising her bloodied talons. "You don't measure up to their strength."

Edana had given her a proud smirk.

Now it was just a matter of managing everyone. Luckily, Anduin had help. Syriana, with her newfound authority was quick to help the others settle in and relax. She regaled them with tales over the fire at night, of how she had met Anduin and how kind and strong he was, and what he was capable of in battle, dispersing the terrifying image of him that they had known their whole lives. They were still skittish around him, especially since his always alert posture prompted him to act suddenly and oftentimes without warning, snapping his head in the direction of sudden sounds suddenly, startling them every time. But after hearing Syriana's tales of him, the boy also found himself under the admiring gaze of many, causing him to feel shyness for the first time in his life.

Edana herself was a godsend. Anduin still didn't know why the woman was so eager to please him, but she was and it helped. The first issue that arose with living with harpies came pretty quickly, and that was the disposal of waste and trash. Anduin did NOT fancy his home becoming a den of filth, and he readily informed them of this. It was one of his only rules. Clean up after yourselves and find a respectable place to dispose of your waste. Defecating and peeing just wherever, or just throwing your kills to the side after eating your fill simply would not do. Edana made them all listen to what he had to say, and even learned as well when he sought out to teach them how they could go about doing what he asked.

The second was their viciousness towards each other.

Anduin generally ignored the fights that broke out between various members of this new group. Violence is a staple of their culture, with fights breaking out almost every day over food, shiny objects or nesting areas and he understood that, accepted it even.

But he was also disapproving of excessive violence, often times having to separate the girls and women before they could kill each other, and explain to them why going so far was unnecessary, especially over such small issues. They were all a team now. And they had to look after each other. He needed only to explain the death caused by the invaders to get them to understand what happens when they are divided, to get them to see reason.

It also helped that he had the backing of their Queen and his fearsome reputation. They were quite obedient in the face of those two things.

After that it was a simple matter of getting accustomed to Harpies in general. They were loud, they were energetic. They were wild and barely civilized.

And…

Sitting down by the fire, with Syriana curling up in his lap, Anduin pondered, even as a swell of desire flooded his body when the girl shifted around a bit, pressing her firm backside into certain part of his anatomy. Up until almost two months ago, Anduin had never paid much more than a passing thought to the prospect of meeting a female. He was content, or resigned to living his existence out alone. It had never ever occurred to him that he'd find himself in want or need of a mate of any kind.

And now…

It was looking like he had quite few options if he wanted.

"Heey! Feral King! Look at me! Look at me! I made sure my plumage was especially shiny today. How do I look?"

A girl a couple of years older than him dropped down beside him and struck a pose, emphasizing her large chest and wide hips. Her feathers were indeed quite lustrous and Anduin gave a hum of approval even as he struggled to avoid staring at other features. She reacted with a pleased squeal and a smoky look before flying off.

Another girl suddenly approached and curled up at his right side, pressing herself into the curve of his body, fitting perfectly due to her smaller size.

"Mmm you're quite warm, Feral King."

Syriana giggled and clung tighter to Anduin, agreeing with the other girl. "He is isn't he? And his scent…" she proceeded to nuzzle his chest, causing a low rumble as he fought with urges foreign to him. Both girls shuddered.

A trio of women splashed around in the pond, bathing. Their naked forms shimmered in the evening sun, adding even more to their beauty as they laughed and played.

"You should join us Feral King!" they called, trying to gesture him over. He stubbornly ignored them.

For over a week it had been like this. Spurred on by the continuous shows of affection by both Syriana AND Edana, a few of the bolder girls sought to copy and started indulging in this new way to express themselves, and finding that they…really liked it. And they were very blunt about it too, flat out telling him they desired him, and full of questions as to why they felt this way, as if he could explain any of this nonsense. He was going through a similar crisis!

It was too much.

He had no idea what to do, so he opted to ignore the advances of the girls for the time being.

He often times found himself retreating into his hut or running off into the jungle to hunt and clear his head. Part of him wanted to curse Syriana for stirring such feelings to life in the first place. Without ever meeting her, he probably would never have suddenly awoken to such…desires. But the other, much larger part couldn't bring himself to hate his current situation. Syriana and the girl at his side both let out breaths of appreciation as he wrapped his arms around them, pressing their bodies even closer to his, though he did flinch a bit when Syriana started kissing his chest, causing other parts to start reacting.

Syriana gasped softly but moaned, pressing herself a bit firmer into his lap.

"Stop that," he commanded with a blush, causing the Harpy to giggle but comply, completely aware of his reaction.

All in all it wasn't bad at all. The Harpies had already made themselves at home, building nests that hung from the trees around his territory and generally just finding a place in their new enclave. He was happy to have them. He relished in the feeling of no longer being alone even with all of the problems that came with being suddenly surrounded by affectionate, amorous near naked beautiful girls.

"Feral King."

Edana interrupted his thoughts suddenly, dropping down from above in a gust of wind and red/pink feathers. She smiled at the boy, then the smile changed into something else when she noticed his current position. It turned Mischievous and teasing. She didn't say anything though, just nodded approvingly before she looked up at the evening sun.

For a while they all just sat there, watching the meat cook over the fire, and observing the other Harpies as they went about their day.

"They are more at ease here," she said suddenly.

Anduin gave a confused look that made the Harpy Queen chuckle. She gestured over towards the pond to the three bathing. They were giggling and laughing, splashing at each other playfully.

"Harpies are savage creatures," she began. "We're violent and territorial. We kill for the slightest of reasons and will eat anything we get our hands on. Food is scarce and hard to acquire and we do not engage in physical touch unless it's to procreate, and even then it's more to hold our chosen male in place. We care little for the wellbeing of our fellow clan members. Every day is a fight. We don't…play."

Her eyes were nostalgic, remembering her rise to queendom, and how violent and ruthless it had been. She remembered the raids she and her sisters had conducted, kidnapping other sentient beings in order to get what they needed from them before killing and eating them. She became melancholy even as she sat down at Anduin's other side and leaned into him.

"You're changing us."

"No," Grunted Anduin, gaining the attention of all three harpies currently occupying his personal space. He looked down to the unnamed girl, smiling slightly as she blushed and looked away. She was a young thing, looked to be around eleven years old with bright pink feathers and medium green skin, her body just beginning to grow into the mature form of a woman.

"Think you've always been this," he said.

Syriana nodded. "Yes," she said. She gave Edana a smile, reaching up to rest her talons on her arm in a comforting gesture. "We just needed something to bring it out."

"N-needed somewhere to be safe enough to try, needed someone to show us." The unnamed girl's voice was quiet and shy. She didn't look at any of them, nervous and unsure if she even had the right to join the conversation. They all look at her and for a few seconds it was silent.

Then Edana chuckled and reached out, ruffling the girl's head. "You speak true, Little Sister."

Then she turned teasing eyes to Anduin. "But even then, without you Feral King, I doubt any of us would be doing…any of this." She emphasized her point by pressing herself closer to him, grinning when he shifted uncomfortably, causing Syriana to moan.

Anduin grunted, turning red.

Edana chuckled. "Your reaction only encourages us," she said. "We've never experienced anything like this before."

"And I have?" He grunted, sounding quite frustrated.

More laughter followed.

Edana rose suddenly.

"Keep doing what you do, Feral King," she began. Her eyes shown with a wistful affection as she looked up, observing her fellow harpies as they fluttered about the clearing. "I look forward to seeing where all of this...goes." She flew off after saying that, leaving Anduin to ponder.

"Feral king! Join us!" called out the three playfully bathing women again, displaying their bodies before him. He grunted again and fought to hide his blushing face.

Chief Spirit Horn would never say that he was prone to dismissing a person on words alone. This world was much too…volatile to ever not at least listen with a half serious air to any tale that was to be told, so when three members of the mercenary guild run by a goblin named Fizzo returned back to Camp Mojache, with stories of a jungle warrior capable of decimating a party of nearly thirty, he was able to keep from snorting derisively and accept their report, especially when he took in their battered states and general aura of awe, wariness and exhaustion that radiated from the three of them.

But even with all of that, he was still unable to keep his tone from showing his disbelief when they finished their tale.

"You're kidding me," he muttered, staring down with wide, slightly disbelieving eyes.

The Orc, a burly warrior with intelligent eyes named Thrush shook his head with a derisive snort. "I wish we were, Chieftain," he said. He then clutched at the grievous wound on his shoulder with a wince, and a look of shame. "We were full of hubris, drunk off of dominating the harpies and capturing their queen. Fizzo especially was full of plans…"

He shook his head with a sigh.

"We paid for that hubris."

Spirit Horn narrowed his eyes. "And you said he was a young human?"

At this, the troll spoke up. Giving a shaky nod she winced as she massaged her injured leg. "Aye Mon," she began. "Was a teenagah, mebbe fourteen, fifteen at da most."

"Hmmm."

This was concerning. Fantastical sounding or not, Chief Spirit Horn simply could not just dismiss what he'd just been told. A human roaming about the jungle, wiping out Horde expeditions and taking dangerous entities like Edana Hatetalon into his protection? This was sure to cause an uproar, especially with the stopping of the plans for Hatetalon herself. He had needed that harpy's heart, both as proof of her demise, thus eliminating a major threat, but also for other more shamanistic things that could be used to strengthen the horde.

And what would the alliance have to say about this? The boy being human would make a prime prospect for recruitment, if he wasn't already an alliance ploy. He gritted his teeth.

"Go," he commanded softly. "Get some rest and see a healer. You've earned it. We shall discuss what to do about this human when you are recovered"

To his surprise, the three looked a bit worried.

"Hmm?" he asked, noticing their expressions. "You have questions?"

It was the troll who spoke, her voice timid. "Are you gon attack da boy den?"

With reluctance, Spirit Horn nodded. "I might have to," he said. "Word of this will travel. People will want answers." He grimaced. "And the warchief will demand retribution."

The troll nodded along with her two remaining guild-mates. "I understand," said Thrush. The three then turned and left, leaving Spirit Horn to ponder.

"How troublesome," he muttered.

He walked over to his teepee and grabbed some parchment and an inkwell

He had a letter to write.

AN: Well hello there! long time no see! I very much apologize for that but I actually have a good reason! I wrote a Novel! I'm in the process of trying to get it published now but yes that's what I've been working on these last months. Busted my ass too. Ugh sooo many hours. Anyway yea. Here's the next chapter. I'm actually very pleased with how popular this is. Wow fics are hit and miss fosho lol. Anyway tell me what ya thought! And I definitely will be sharing a lnk with you for my book once it's up and out there. Sorry this one is such a short chapter too. There was simply not much elsei could write without it dragging on needlessly. the curse of filler chaps.

Peace out