"So, you're here and defenseless. Except for that spell on my cabin that keeps all magic people out unless I invite them. Time limit on this?" I asked.
"Basically, 24 hours. Tomorrow morning I get my wings , talons, and magic back. And I'll leave. Go back into that heartless, cold be-yatch that connives and plans and does whatever she wants." Harpy was staring down into her mug again. "Over and over and over. But you know what? I can't die. I'm immortal. So what am I supposed to do - go back to racing the wind? Boring. Bor Ring."
"Meaning you are just a mis-trained spirit-guide." I summarized. "You have a lousy life because you've been putting out lousy 'vibes' wherever you go. Expect bad, get bad. Like I said. Give bad, get more bad. End doesn't justify the means, it just mirrors them.
