Hank flapped his wings, his breath coming in ragged bursts. The gash across his chest burned, but he refused to back down.
The falcon, though injured, was still fast. Too fast.
WHOOSH!
It shot toward him again, talons extended like daggers aimed for his throat.
Arthur's eyes gleamed.
Hank screeched as he activated his skill: Claw Grab, tilting his body just before impact.
The falcon's talons nearly pierced his neck—but Hank twisted and caught the falcon's leg mid-attack.
SNAP!
Hank's claws locked around the falcon's leg, squeezing with terrifying strength.
The falcon let out a panicked shriek.
Arthur smirked. 'He got you.'
But the falcon wasn't finished yet.
It twisted its body violently, using its free talon to rake at Hank's face.
SLASH!
A fresh wound opened near Hank's left eye, blood dripping down his feathers.
Arthur's fingers twitched.
Hank's golden eyes flared with a predatory glow. As he used his rare skill, Predator's Mark.
