Merida stood at the edge of the ballroom, leaning against one of the room's ornately carved pillars. She was flushed from the last exuberant dance she had partaken in, whirling across the floor with her partner of the moment. She had been watching the dancers whirl across the polished floor, fanning her cheeks, sipping a watered-down glass of champagne that she hardly cared for, when the first sharp cries broke through the music.

Her pale blue eyes darted to the source of the commotion, narrowing as she caught sight of something brilliant streaking across the ballroom—a blur of radiant plumage and glinting claws. The bird, larger than any ordinary fowl, had the iridescent sheen of magic about it, its vivid reds, golds, and greens clashing against the subdued elegance of the evening's icy color palette.

It swooped low, wings slicing through the air with a sound that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Guests shrieked and scattered, some diving for cover under tables while others froze, clutching at their partners. A cry rang out, sharp with pain, followed by the unmistakable coppery tang of blood hanging in the air.

Merida’s drink was abandoned on a side table as she wove through the chaos, her no-nonsense strides cutting through the sea of panicked witches and wizards. She reached the injured person — now crumpled on the floor clutching their arm, where deep gashes bled freely.

She dropped to her knees beside themwithout hesitation, her healer's instincts kicking in. "Hold still," she commanded, voice firm but not unkind. Her wand was in her hand before she’d even realized she’d drawn it.

The bird—no, the beast—shrieked again, its long tail feathers brushing dangerously close to nearby guests as it perched atop a crystal chandelier, glaring down with predatory eyes. Its handler, a flustered wizard in garish robes, scrambled to contain it, clearly overwhelmed.

"I'm a healer - are you alright if I look at this?" she asked, the unfortunate victim of over-ambitious decorating.