Larkspur squinted and made a few more passes over the scene. It was hard to tell what exactly was happening among the flailing limbs, but it didn't quite look like the big sharp prey was dead yet. "KEEP SHAKING!" they called out helpfully.
But he wasn't quick enough, and suddenly the rest of the big sharp prey were all rushing him at once! Wham! Uh-oh! Did Big Vee just—get hit? No, no, he seemed okay for now, but—oh, he was calling for help! Uhhhhh—! Larkspur tried to think of ways they could help this person several hundred times their size hunt several other things several hundred times their size. They came up with nothing. No wait, something! They had water magic, and although the river was kind of far—well, there was other water too, right? In cases of emergencies? The big sharp prey's eyes might be wet. Larkspur's own eyeballs were always in a moistened state.
They made one last pass over the struggling quartet of Extremely Large Animals and honed in on the bull closest to Big Vee. Then they dove down and zoomed past its head at top speed, blasting all the icy magic they could muster right at its moistened eyeballs. Oh, and it was kind of bleeding too. That was freezable too, right?
Timir scrambled back. He didn't know what Larkspur had done, exactly, but suddenly he had a bit of breathing room. He flinched and screamed (internally) for his magic. He pushed it for the bull that was gaining dangerously, the one he thought Larkspur had done... something to.
Could he suck the air from around it? Prevent it from moving? Suffocate it, even, make it die so he'd have some food?!
Even so, he was still backing away, deeply alarmed at all the pointy bits still heading for him.
Unaware that Vee was using his own magic on the lead bull, Larkspur only saw it flinch, stagger, and bellow with distress. Had their magic really done that? They felt caught in an awkward place, not strong enough to fully help Vee take out his prey but still causing it pain and distress. If this had been the tree swallow's own prey, it'd be dead and in their stomach by now.
But there was too much going on to dwell on it for long. The herd of really big, really sharp prey were still going for Vee, and he'd be in big trouble if they weren't stopped. They could help him—they would help him. The eyeballs of a second meadow deer became the unfortunate target of Larkspur's focus, their moisture freezing over into ice.
Timir spun. Fear was gripping him, and he knew instinctively that just standing here was going to get him killed. Or fighting--that would also get him killed. He had to flee.
He turned, his magic going with him, a brief gust of air coming in from above and behind to sweep him forward at a higher speed.
Realistically, he probably meant, 'FLY.'
Despite both their best efforts, the big sharp prey were still converging on Vee, and it became apparent that this was not going to be a successful hunt as he turned and fled, bellowing for Larkspur to follow suit.
The tree swallow hesitated, however, flitting uncertainly above the deer still. They still didn't seem to suspect that the little bird above them had been interfering in this hunt as well. If- if he isn't going to catch one and eat it, should I try to... fix them? It felt bad, just leaving them like this, with the freezing eyeballs and blood and all. But as much as they tried to think of some other way to help, no ideas came. They didn't know anything that could possibly help this situation further, so after floundering for a bit, they shook themselves and darted after Vee as he'd urged.
He ran, for awhile. Ran and ran, his adrenaline racing, leaving him shaking and feeling rather miserable. Some creatures probably got a thrill from this sort of thing, but it'd felt like life and death to him and he distinctly didn't like it. Maybe he could learn to, but right now-?
He crested a hill and turned, wide-eyed, looking for Larkspur. They were flying toward him, and a surge of relief hit him strong enough to make him feel dizzy.
Timir spared a moment to calculate the distance to the bulls, to make sure they weren't about to still charge and trample him. He hoped, tentatively, that he was safe enough this far off--they weren't chasing, anyway--and looked to Larkspur with a cringe.
It had definitely not gone how he'd envisioned.
He hesitated, then added--because it seemed right to do so--