Macklyn didn't need to be told twice. Though he was through the connection it had with Eric. Even fainter than what Eric heard, Macklyn heard the request to be saved. It didn't want to die anymore than he wanted it to.
Knowing it would hurt to do so, but also knowing the twisted gun would impede healing, Macklyn yanked the metal out of the bird's chest. He was careful when he got rid of it, though, this time putting it on the roof nearby, not wanting to cause any further injuries.
He ripped open the vein in his wrist with his teeth. It felt too familiar. This time, though, he wasn't saving Eric as well. It was just the bird. He let the blood drop onto the beak at first, and then when it opened fully, into the gullet. It was a good amount of blood, he'd torn his flesh open a little too well. Macklyn's eyes were blurred by tears, though, and he turned his gaze to his mate, who was too far away for his liking. He could feel the sadness, and he could smell the tears.
This wasn't what he wanted.
He'd thought they would all sit and talk. Decide what needed to happen. He had no idea where the shift had taken place. He didn't like this one bit.
"I'm so sorry." He whispered to the bird, but it was meant for Eric more.