The net wasn't like a normal net. It pressed and contained and the magic in it made the lion's fur sizzle without burning. It was painful, like pine-needles; the lion whined, high-pitched.

He tried to shake himself free, but the net clung, weighed him down, so much so that when he tried to take a step his legs collapsed instead and he fell heavily to the ground. The lion lay there and breathed, terror and pain shining in his eyes as he gazed up at Michael's approach; he shivered with them, ever so slightly.