...but wasn't there a fifth?

Once the twins have teetered off to recover, you draw yourself up to your elbows, wincing in pain both sharp and sore. Sleeping on hard stone is uncomfortable enough; you're pretty sure sex is going to leave bruises. Now propped up, you look about the outcropping for the suspected fifth harpy. Sure enough, it doesn't take long to pick out the deep-blue plumage from the rest, nor the girl it belongs to. As your eyes meet, the heat in her stare does wonders for your libido... but there's more there than lust, and it catches your fascination. The harpies' raptor-like movements and bizarre appearance makes reading them difficult, but you're certain you're not mistaken: the girl in front of you is timid, her stiff nipples only barely visible above her crossed wings and her blush highlighting an uncertain frown. As your examination goes lower, you're shocked to see her pale skin continue from her hips to her coltish legs and down to her very human feet. Like the twins - you notice now - her feathers are limited to her wings, the necklace of down about her neck, and the few hiding in her ruffled locks of sky-blue.

You haven't a clue what you could do, or what you should do, for that matter. There was a point a few minutes ago where your goal had been to run away. Admittedly, some rather important things had transpired between then and now, but you can't quite silence the deadpan voice inside you asking if you're really trying to cheer a girl - a monster - into lying with you. Luckily (?) for you, she seems to make up her mind, taking a tentative step forward, her eyes flickering over your whole body as she starts to draw closer...

WHOOSH. There's a flash of red and a squeak as Red brandishes her wings like a banner, knocking the last harpy onto her back with a flippant flick. She chitters angrily at the blue-feathered girl, whose anger quickly fades to submission. You can't blame her, especially when that attention is directed back your way. This time, Red's gaze is almost bored, lacking any of the desire from earlier. You swallow despite yourself as she grimaces, continuing in the harsh language as Orange comes closer. Red's claws move almost lazily, and you freeze up again as they wrap about your thigh. She continues in her low tone, and the flicker of nervousness on Orange's face worries you considerably. The two of them continue in a back and forth as the rest of the girls gather nearby, Red's face switching between impassive, to frustrated, and then to a cruel half-smile. Her talons shift, and you feel it prick at the back of your knee, sliding over the tendon there with predatory precision. Orange says something quiet, eyes on your knee, and the talons move further down. Now they trace over your heel, the point of her talon ever so slightly pressing into the skin. It's enough to hurt, like a needle in the side, but you don't dare move.

Orange repeats herself, a sharp snap of sound, and Red glares at her. Orange looks towards you, ignoring your confused and pleading expression, and sends her claws flashing forward. You flinch away, your heart jumping in your chest, only for the sound of scraping stone to meet your ears. You dare to open your eyes,and see the claw completing a wide circle about where you sit, carved straight into the stone itself. You look about yourself, confused, until you feel their eyes on you. You look back at their expectant faces, and then back at the circle. Unsure of what else to do, you tentatively touch its sides, and when that fails to elicit a reaction, you reach past it.

The sudden lance of pain, of bone-crushing pressure around your ankle draws a strangled yelp from your lips as you sharply pull away from the boundary. Red slowly loosens her vice grip, muttering something as she walks away, along with any misplaced affection you might've had for her. You blink through the tears threatening to form in your eyes as you nurse your purple ankle, looking for some sympathy from the other harpies. None seem willing to so much as look at you though, and so you resign yourself to huddling inside your pen.