Jake and Laura!
It was a good job that Banshee hunted with Jake so often that the ikran knew exactly what they were doing during this fight. Banshee knew the tactics Jake was using, and knew how to carry on with them if they managed to get separated. Which, obviously, they had.
One of the flying whatevers had tangled itself with Jake and Banshee, and the only way out that didn't involve all three of them crashing to the ground was for Jake to break Tsaheylu with his ikran, and that way, only two of them would crash into the ground. He'd quickly let Banshee know his thoughts, and what the ikran was to keep doing, and then he broke the bond and let the flying fuckface take his weight as he'd thrown himself off of Banshee with a yell. He'd made sure to keep a hold of the whatever, and Banshee pulled clear with a shriek before banking right and continuing on with the rest of the flying creatures on their side.
Jake, on the other hand, had drawn his dagger and was hacking at the whatsit's soft underbelly and leathery wings. He would survive the fall, thanks to his Na'vi bones, but he didn't think the other thing would, especially if he managed to twist them round as they fell. He got a bite on his shoulder that drew blood, and scraped all over by the thing's claws, but the biting and clawing was over soon enough as they crashed into the ground and bounced and skidded along. The creature landed first, its neck snapping with an audible crack, but Jake landed hard too, getting thrown forward from the now-dead thing, and almost smacked into a building. His dagger was still in his hand, but his bow and arrows were scattered back along his "flight path". "Neytiri's gonna kick my ass," he muttered, and staggered to his feet.