Gyrfalcon's Keep bangerbells

The bird silently continued to groom itself, scarcely aware of the pale wolf closing in on it. Atreyu had never tasted gyrfalcon before, perhaps this would be his first time. Pausing as the bird adjusted itself on it's rocky perch, the boy left one paw dangling in the air, the tips of his ears quivering as he readied himself for the perfect moment to strike. You really only had one chance with prey — especially birds — so you had to make your first move count.

Narrowing his eyes, the boy suddenly pushed off the ground, eagerly leaping forward with all of his strength. The gyrfalcon predictably let out a loud shriek as it was made aware of it's hunter and took to the air. Atreyu cursed and leapt after it, jaws snapping as they closed around the bird's tail. However, all he managed was a mouthful of feathers. He fell to the ground again, spitting out the feathers before angrily looking up, watching his would-be meal get away.

With a frustrated curl of his lip, Atreyu spun on his heel, ready to stalk off back to the coast and try his luck with the creatures on the beach. At least they didn't have wings. However, he quickly spotted two blue eyes peering out of the shadows. He squinted, making out the form of a dark-furred wolf. The wind was now in the stranger's favour, so the boy could not smell the tell-tale scent of Stavanger Bay on her coat. Snarling, he started towards her, hackles bristling. "You!" he sneered. "You made it fly away!"

Of course, the poor girl hadn't done anything; Atreyu simply wanted someone to blame for his own lack of hunting skills.