Illy had grown up in the slums without any parents. She’d moved around the monster realm, sometimes joining the street children, but she never stayed anywhere for long.
That was because she always got in fights.
In one town, she’d fought with the beast who looked after her and then fled.
In another, a group of nuns took care of her, but one of them was always on her case, so she ran away.
That was how Illy used to live. She would disagree with someone, they would fight, and then Illy would fly off somewhere else.
In other words, she didn’t know how to make up with people.
What is my problem?
She’d thought things were going well in Lindworm. Lulala, Memé, and all the young women in the harpy village were so nice. Illy had been trying her best to be as cheerful as possible so she wouldn’t get into fights.
Until Plum came along.
She just came out fighting. She never wanted to get along with me!
If the same thing had happened in another town, she would have just moved again. But things were different now. She had a job. And friends.
Illy had no intention of throwing her life away just because she’d fought with Plum. Her only choice was to make amends. She had to.
What should I do?
Illy ruminated as she lay half asleep while her wings were being pampered. She’d never made up with anyone before. Every time things got uncomfortable, she’d leave rather than trying to repair the relationship.
I don’t know how to make up with someone…but I do know one thing.
Plum was envious of Illy’s wings and the fact that she didn’t need to dress up to look good.
Illy also knew that Plum needed to fix their relationship as much as she did. Plum couldn’t just leave Lindworm, either. She couldn’t even fly long distances. Nor could she stay holed up in the graveyard district forever. At the very least, she had to come into town to buy the accessories she loved so much.
Illy knew these things for sure. Now she just needed a plan.
I’m fine. I can do it.
She believed this.
Once my wings are back to normal, I’ll try talking to her.
Plum was a pain in the butt, but if Illy was going to live in this town, she needed to get along with her.
That was why…
That was why she would…
“Ahhmm?!”
Startled by her own voice, Illy was abruptly woken from her dreamlike state. She saw Glenn, right beside her, concentrating on brushing.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Mm! Aggh, wh-what?!”
“Oh, sorry, did I wake you up?”
Illy had been dozing while Glenn brushed her, but now her eyes were open. Her crest feathers stood straight up, quivering.
“I’m almost done,” Glenn assured her.
“Hee… Mmmagh…w-wait. Be gentle.”
“I’m trying to be gentle.”
Harpy wings were incredibly sensitive. They had to be in order to perform the delicate operation of flight. Which meant that, even as gentle as Glenn was being, his careful brushing might feel stimulating in some spots. This was especially true since he was stroking one feather at a time.
“But look! They’re much prettier now!”
“Uh…ah, yeah. That’s true, but…”
Illy’s feathers were shining like new. There were still some places where the fibers were bristled, but they were minor enough that Illy could fix them while grooming herself. It was a testament to Glenn’s skillful brushing.
“Now, for the final touch.”
“Huh, mmm! Agh, wh-why just the tips?!”
“If I’m not thorough with the quills, it will affect your flying,” Glenn said.
“Oh, I see. Th-then make sure I can fly! Mm, mmph, aggh.” Illy accepted Glenn’s explanation, but that didn’t change how it felt.
“Does it hurt?”
“I-it doesn’t hurt, but… Mmph, mmm! Oof, i-it tickles.”
Glenn nodded. There were no nerves in the actual feathers, but they were deeply linked to muscles. On top of that, the rustling sensation as the preen oil was applied seemed to be irritating Illy.
“Mmmahh…ooh, hey!”
Glenn touched her tail feathers again. He had to replenish the oil on the brush from her uropygial gland regularly. Anyone walking by who didn’t know what was going on would certainly misunderstand the act they were engaged in.
Glenn lifted Illy’s tail feathers and stroked her gland.
“Mmm, eee…agh!” Illy squirmed, clearly sensitive to his touch.
Her clothes were made to accommodate the feathers growing on her rear end, so she hadn’t needed to take any clothes off for this procedure.
“Aggh…ow! Mm… Mmm!”
Glenn was back to brushing the particularly large wing feathers. Illy’s body twitched.
“Okay, this is the last bit.”
“Mmm! Ow…oof…!”
When Glenn finally put down the brush, Illy collapsed on the cushion. She didn’t even have enough strength to keep herself upright.
“Ooooh, uggg! Why do I always get like this when the doctor is examining meee?” she moaned. She kicked her feet and flapped her wings.
“I’m not sure what to do about that.” Glenn chuckled. Illy glared at him with tears in her eyes.
“If you went through all that and didn’t fix my feathers, I’m going to be angry!”
“They’re fine. See for yourself,” Glenn said.
Her reddish wings had regained their shine. The protective effects of the preen oil were so dramatic that they didn’t even look like the same feathers.
“Thanks,” Illy said, looking away from Glenn, perhaps out of embarrassment.
“You’re welcome.” Glenn smiled.
He was thinking about what a handful the young women of this town—Lulala, Illy, Memé, and Plum—could be.