(Fallon is a raven familiar and thus can shapeshift into a raven. Samuel is his mage. Note: this does not contain animal death, but it does walk you through how to euthanize a bird. So warnings and all that.)
“‘To wring a bird’s neck…’”
Samuel’s voice is cool and calm as he reads from the web page, holding Fallon’s trembling body in his hands.
“‘Hold the bird close to your body, using your weak hand to hold the legs.’”
Fallon squirms in Samuel’s grasp as the mage takes his legs in his left hand and pulls him close against his body. The rubber band over his beak prevents him from protesting, and the neutralizing magic emanating from Samuel’s hands prevent him from defending himself with fire.
“‘Grasp the bird by the head-’” His right hand slides up Fallon’s neck, settling just behind his skull. “‘-either between the two first two fingers of the dominant hand, or by the thumb and first finger around the neck.’ First two feel more comfortable, but I think I like the control of the thumb and index finger better…” Samuel mutters, adjusting his grip.
Fallon wants to sob, wants to plead and beg. Would Samuel actually kill him? He’s supposed to be a hostage, isn’t he? His whimpering grows louder when his head is tilted back carefully.
“‘Tilt the bird’s head well back, so it points towards the tail of the bird…’” Samuel smiles, leaning down to Fallon’s face. “This aligns the joints so that it’s easier to dislocate the head from the neck.” This information doesn’t ease the raven’s fears at all. He clamps his eyes shut with another whine and Samuel hums in cruel amusement.
“‘Firmly push the head away from your body until you feel the head separate…’”
Fallon lets out a smothered yelp and stifled, whimpering sobs when Samuel yanks, but lets his hand slip over the top of the feathered head. The raven hangs limp in the mage’s left hand, hyperventilating.
“‘Pinch just behind the head to ensure that the head has separated from the neck. There will be an obvious gap. Convulsions and flapping are expected.’” At this, Samuel’s fingers probe gently at the back of Fallon’s neck, causing him to shudder. The fingers fall away and he’s lifted. An upside-down smile takes up most of his vision.
“Oh, Pumpkin. What’s the matter? Did you really think I was going to put you out of your misery?”
Samuel’s amused hum fills the air once again, and the rubber band is pulled off of Fallon’s beak. But he’s run out of pleas and begs. No longer interested, Samuel releases him, and the raven manages to flutter his way to the sofa before collapsing against it, shifting back and curling into a ball to weep quietly.
