Ganymedeio Ioprey

*she parts aside some feathers from her tail, revealing a single, jet black plume*  D'you see that feather?  In most harpy lore, it's known simply as The Dark Plume.  The legend goes that whoever is born with the Dark Plume bears only death on their shoulders.

My mother died in childbirth, and my father had to give a blood transfusion, as I was rather frail for a harpy.  They took too much blood, and then his life.  That was when they saw the plume.  Since then, I've been exiled by every harpy community I've come across.

I had to learn to fight for myself, fend for myself...

There was one, a wendigo, who promised to take care of me... A few nights went by, and then I found his body impaled on several stakes, slain by villagers who had followed a trail... of feathers... I had been molting, and it was for that reason that they found and killed him.

There was a time when I embraced it.  I started killing anything smaller than me that moved, relishing the taste of flesh.  I guess I felt as though if I killed enough, the Plume would be satisfied, would molt or fall off.  Or maybe I just wanted to surround myself with death so that when it actually happened, I wouldn't be hurt so badly by it.  In any case, neither of those things happened.  I tried to pull it out.  Turns out it's connected directly to my spinal cord.  I lay in a field, paralyzed for two days.  At one point a feral wolf found me, and was preparing to eat me, when suddenly, he just froze.  His eyes turned completely black, then melted out of his head.  He made a disgusting, guttural sound before throwing up all of his internal organs.  I think the plume did that, too...

I have seen flowers wilt... I have seen birds fall from trees like stones... I have heard grasshoppers cease their song the minute I approach.  I see fish float to the surface of ponds, and ant nests devoid of ants.  There is never so much as a bug in my nest.

I was actually christened Death, originally.  Ganymedeio Ioprey is just a name I gave myself.  If you want, you can call me Death.  Most people I have known do.

Witnessing death.

Hypocrisy. 

Feral wolves.