Malcolm West was known in the area as the expert falconer everyone called whenever there's a bird-related problem. True, his job might include him training birds and making sure they knew how to respond to commands, but naturally in everyone's eyes who weren't a falconer, he was just The bird specialist™.

Although Malcolm had the permanently displeased look on his face no matter what he did, his heart felt full being able to pursue his dream of helping birds and training them. After all, this man knew everything about anything bird related because of his passion for them ever since he was a little kid being absorbed by the bird encyclopaedia.

"Bradford, come." Malcolm said sternly with a booming voice as he stood there in the vast land of Northumberland. The landscape was the type you saw in those national geographic scenes with open fields, windy hills, a dense forest in the far distance, and of course birds everywhere.

As soon as Bradford, the huge Martial eagle heard Malcolm's command, he picked up off his perch and swooped towards his falconer at an impressive speed. As always, Malcolm rewarded him with a small piece of meat, earning a satisfied screech from Bradford who was now perched there like a king.

Bradford was one of Malcolm's rescue birds. Although he was completely healthy and strong now, Malcolm had once seen Bradford as a juvenile stuck on his fence and screeching at him as if warning him to stay away. Now the martial eagle was happy enough to be perched on Malcolm's arm, preening with his pretty feathers — dark brown head and white belly.