Harpies/Tengu
Humans have gone into hiding. They've not reached the brink of extinction just yet, but on some days, it truly feels like it.
No one quite knew how the birds came into existence. Some believed that the humans were a more diminutive version and the birds had always reigned the primary race of the world; others felt as though the birds were a manmade creation and had simply grown out of humanity's control. Whatever the case may have been, there was no denying that these birds savagely ripped apart what used to be.
No roads. No society. No civilization. Every day lives as though it's its last.
A semi post-apocalyptic style world where humans live in hiding from giant birds called Harpies (loosely based on some Tengu folklore). Harpies come in different "breeds" (i.e. parrot, jay, peacock, etc.) and range anywhere from twenty feet to upwards of a hundred. They are human in features and some mannerisms but terribly feral in other ways, such as their acute senses, inhuman noises, and a propensity for devouring humans.
The Harpies cultural life is broken into tribes and clans, of which they share the same 'surname.' At the top are Elders, which are the oldest members of the nest and the most magically in-tune with nature. The species as a whole lives for a couple hundred years, but elders live for double that time—sometimes close to five-hundred. The oldest recorded Elder was eight-hundred. Elders are responsible for any decisions pertaining to border disputes, boundary-setting, guests from outside clans, and appeasing Spirits. Spirits are regarded as the Harpies' religious symbol: wisp-like figures that connect the birds between nature and magic.
Below Elders are the apprentices, who train to become Elders. They would be regarded next in the chain of command if an Elder was in need of disposal. Every other point of business in the nest is left as a democracy, or to the more outspoken individuals of the clan.
Eshe has never liked being 'in charge,' but no one else in her hidden city seems willing to foot the 'responsibility' bill. So, for two weeks out of each month, she must make the arduous supply journey between her shoddy hometown of Caelfalls and the infamous Gardens. The Gardens are a "fabled" civilization where humans and their neighboring Harpy live in some kind of harmony. The humans there don't live in fear of their settlement being discovered and torn asunder. All the protection they need comes from the birds. In exchange, the humans provide a service to their neighbors: jewelry making. It's a fair trade to the ostentatious peacocks, though a sometimes tenuous deal based on the birds' moods.
Eshe knows the Gardens exist—she's been there before—but that still doesn't make it easy to accept. Her memories of being there are spotty. All she recalls is blood, screaming, and being left alone just short of giant talons.
This recent trip into the Gardens would have been made easier if not for catching the eye of one of its residents, Sami. For some reason, she just can't seem to shake the peacock loose, and it's made even more complicated when he claims he was the one who found her lost in the woods, healing her before setting her on her way.
Sami, for all intent purposes, is in love-at-first-sight with Eshe. He knew it from the first moment he overheard her singing while washing her clothes. He is foolishly, hopelessly, and confusedly in love, for no tales have ever told of a Harpy and a human before.
Tearing down each other's walls becomes an olympic-level challenge. Eshe, terrified of all she's ever known about Harpies, refuses to forge any sort of friendship with Sami—much less a relationship. And Sami, new both to human closeness and blinded by his own self-absorption, takes time in soothing her fears amidst his own beliefs. Somehow in the end, it works out for them both.