Crrr! Something whirred through the air like a small tornado. The loud crack of splitting wood followed. A dagger stabbed an inch above his scalp, still vibrating as it pinned his hat and part of his hair to the tree. The Hunter couldn't move for a heartbeat. Then, with his heart thundering and blood surging through his temples, he tore himself free and spun around, gripping his revolver and pointing it toward where the knife had come from.
First, the only thing visible was a pair of falcon eyes behind dark leaves. Those eyes reminded him of bees. They reminded him of honey protected by sharp stingers.
The runaway, Bird.