Babby's first greentext

>"BA-CAWK!"
>"BA-CAWK!"
>"BA-CAWK! Screw this infallible flu...!"
>well fuck, there she goes again, ranting and raving about how shit the bird flu is
>it's hard to believe that you only met the girl in front of you a month ago

>be you
>be Anonymous
>you were once a loner, living in an apartment and watching the days go by without you
>honestly, if it weren't for your job you applied for a week prior to the events, you probably would have stayed a useless NEET for a long while
>you walked down the usual path to home one day after a long, hard day of work
>walking past a dumpster, you heard a sneeze
>dismissing it, you walked away back to home--
>wait what the fuck
>a homeless person is living in a dumpster bin?
>you look inside the bin and look upon the girl inside
>easily like a 7/10 from where you can see, but her shirt seems torn to rags and her feet look incredibly fucked
>brown hair in a bob cut, probably a B-cup, hips don't lie, her arms look fucking weird
>4/10 would cuddle
>looks like she's asleep, too
>unwisely, you poke her just to see if she reacts
>"Pl... Please, don't hurt me..."
>poor thing's talking to herself in her sleep
>it doesn't look like she's going to get any help at that point, so you may as well bring her home
>and thus began your and the girl's bizarre relationship together

>after that you quickly learnt that she was a "harpy" and that her name was Daya
>she quickly warmed up to you after spending a few weeks at your house, and the two of you are somewhat friends
>if there's one thing you noticed about her it's that she likes speaking a lot
>like
>a LOT
>she's not the kind of person to run her mouth ninety miles a minute, but she's practically a walking thesaurus
>she's a smartie harpy (which is really rare for her kind, so you've heard)
>"Why is this information important?" you may ask
>because she's going on a long, descriptive rant on how shit her cold is and it's getting out of hand
>"...I'm sick of being bilious all day-- BA-CAWK! I just want to fly again! Anon, do you know what it's like being bedridden while trapped in the brumal temperatures? It's ghastly! Seriously, this is just blah blah blah..."
>you drifted off after fifteen seconds into her rant
>what does bilious even mean?
>brumal isn't even a word, it's the name of a country
>you digress as you begin to fetch her some soup for her cold
>you don't know shit about bird flu, but it's probably something she can ward off easily
>"BA-CAWK! Anon, come back here!"
>you decide to surprise her by not saying anything, just going to the kitchen
>you could have sworn she said something just as you were leaving, though
>"A-Anon? Are you leaving me, too...?"

>ignoring that, you prepare some soup and muse on the prospect of Daya flying again
>she can barely lift a wing yet she's already speaking of flying?
>now that you think about it, she's not as aerodynamic as other harpies
>maybe she forfeited her agility for her smarts?
>maybe she sacrificed her immune system too if she fell victim to the bird flu this easily
>you hear a faint murmur while just about finishing making the soup
>"This is so humiliating... Ba-cawk... I-I hate that word... Uwahhh..."
>that's her from her room
>wait fuck was that a sob you just heard?
>you never usually hear Daya cry so this shit must be serious
>hurrying up, you take the bowl of soup on a tray and move into her room to check her out
>she's... laying down in bed?
>that's weird, she was just going on a tirade earlier
>tear marks are streaking down her face as she snuggles into the bed
>setting the soup on the table next to the bed, you sit on the bedside in order to comfort her
>"...You didn't leave?"
>of course not you were making some bomb-ass soup just for her
>you shake your head, offering a reassuring smile and patting her shoulder
>she sniffles, turning to face you directly

>"Why do you still take care of me even though I'm bedridden? I'm nothing more than a burden to you, aren't I?"
>woah shit the temperature sure got hell of a lot colder here
>you explain that she's a friend to you, and it wouldn't be right of you to just walk out on her
>she's shivering, moving up to get a hug from you
>you oblige, of course, noting just how soft her feathers are--
>why does your shoulder feel wet?
>Daya's crying on your shoulder
>and she's shivering and generally looking like shit
>you ask her what's wrong, what the whole problem is for
>she explains to you that she has a history of abandonment issues, as is for birds in general
>she had thought that you were going to leave her too
>with a smile, you softly tell her that you'd never leave her for the world
>you swear you've never seen a harpy hug someone that fast
>the two of you spend the rest of the night cuddling, your relationship on a better level than it was before

>until she sneezes again, of course, because she's still sick
>"I hate it! I hate this flu so much! If I could just get rid of it so I can fly again, I would blah blah blah..."
>there she goes again