The Blue-Feathered Falcon

"Hank, come back."

Hank immediately disengaged, veering away from the falcon and descending toward Arthur. The falcon, sensing an opportunity, folded its wings and dove at full speed, intending to finish its prey off.

Arthur remained calm, his eyes locked onto the approaching falcon. The moment it got within range, he muttered coldly.

"Shadow Bind."

The falcon froze in midair, its wings locked in place, its beak inches away from striking Hank's back.

Hank flapped his wings and perched himself on Arthur's shoulder, bleeding but still strong. Arthur reached into his inventory and pulled out a health potion, popping the cork before letting Hank drink from it.

The falcon remained suspended in the air, its predatory eyes now filled with fear.

It had just realized something—it wasn't the hunter. It was the prey.