Oh great, he was doing this with an audience now. Tide already hated the water. There were sturgeon in the water. There were sharks in the water. There was so much bullshit hiding in the murk. He's over it. Well and truly over it. Still, with Davey's taunting, he moves out to tread water. "Are you fucking happy, douchebag?" Hackles up, scowling at his brother.

Mercy is the first one to sight the trouble, though Tide can't quite make heads or tails of exactly what the girl is on about. It's not until he hears the splashing, at least. Sighted down by no less than three gators, Tide paddles his doggy ass off toward the shore. Not quick enough, one of them is already snapping at his tail. "How the fuck does this keep happening-- dickhead." Shouting at the top of his lungs.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Mercy couldn't help but enjoy days like this. Lazy days, spent watching the world go by from the silty banks of the Estuary. Sure, she wasn't the most keen on water either, but she's not the center of attention. Sprawled on the bank, watching the boys bicker amongst themselves, barely paying any mind to the rest of the world.

Bait and his string of cuss words, though, draws Mercy's attention. It seemed their eyes weren't the only ones on the smaller boy. "Bro those are crocs," a delicious grin slipping over her face, climbing to her feet in one fluid motion. Already bounding through the shallows toward the beasts, grabbing the snoot of the bastard that reaches for Tide. Sinking her teeth in viciously, though the beast has armored skin. This isn't the only crocodile out here, but hey, first shot best shot.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

At this point, it was getting a little silly. Davey was traumatizing his brother for life, all for their entertainment. Goading the boy into the water, watching as he snaps and yells. It's so incredibly funny, on every level. Tail wagging, barking at Baitboy from the shore. Running up and down and making a ridiculous amount of noise. Joyful, especially as he messes with the smaller boy.

Even more joyful when the gaggle of crocodiles appear. Without a second thought, he charges into the water. The barking doesn't stop, and he's not taking this anywhere near as seriously as he should. Davey reaches for an unoccupied beastie, springing upon its back and trying to hold its head beneath the water.

"speech"

Things seemed easier here. The boys carelessly splashed in the water and Pyxis drew a deep, clear breath of sea air. No scent of decay on the air, no... tension. Everything was easy, the wolves here smiled and laughed. It was... an adjustment.

Never one to quite let go completely, his purple eyes snapped open at Mercy's declaration of crocs. The air filled with barking and splashing, and Pyxis pushed forward to join them. He wasn't going to shy away from a fight, they were just trying to have a good time, these bastards could fuck right off back to where they came from as far as he was concerned. Moving to join his cousin who had a hold of one by the face, he moved to grab a stubby leg and started trying to heave it onto the ground where it would be at a disadvantage.

"speech"

Corsair wasn't as relaxed as the other youngsters that had gathered in the estuary. The scent of salt and mud permeated the air and the ever-present chatter of birds overhead gave him some semblance that all was well... until it wasn't.

The unnatural silence in the birdsong, like the world around them was holding its breath, was broken by Mercy's declaration of crocs. Really? Again? When would they get the message that the Raider's weren't snacks and bit back?

Pyxis was moving to help Mercy so Corsair focused on making sure the one pursuing Tide didn't take his tail off. He leapt, landing on the crocs head and pushing its jaws shut with audible pop, but now there was nothing soft for him to grab and they were quickly surfing for the shore.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Gilda had been sunning herself, belly up on the almost sand, just about to drift to sleep when all hell broke loose in the water. She rolled to her belly, pushing up on her paws in time to see Corsair leap onto the head of a snapping crocodile.

Her tail started to beat wildly at her back. Pyx was helping Mercy, Corsair had covered Bait, that left Davey, on the back of one of the crocs, holding on for dear life and barking his lungs out. A peal of laughter left her lips. Typical.

Bounding forward to join him, she aimed for a stubby rear leg. If she could get it into shallow enough water, she'd haul it out by it's tail and gut it like a leggy fish.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Frankly, it's getting ridiculous. The fact this keeps happening, with bigger and worse and scarier predators-- was it a pattern of behavior? Does Tide need to care about connecting the dots, at least right now? It seems like the crocs are a bigger concern, at the moment. The other pups on the silty banks of the estuary came to join them, and they were off to the races. Er. Off to the carnage. Something like that.

Corsair is quick to his aid, and Tide swings quickly. Snapping and snarling, though he lures the apparently hungry beast back toward shore. In the water, they probably have decent advantage. On land? Stubby legs and clumsy movement would hopefully get the better of them. Now that there were no very large, very gross teeth at his heels, he can do this a little more safely. Bait is as Bait does.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

Pyxis comes to her aid, and the two gleefully rip into the beast. They're vicious, terrible things, the two of them. Nothing shy about either of them, as they attempt to drag the beast forward. At least through the water, it's not too bad. Getting a good hold of the croc's mouth, Mercy is in danger range but it's not the worst thing. Not the worst thing at all. Heaving and hauling, dragging it to where the water was far too shallow to give the beast ground.

Though its jaws strained and snapped, Mercy would use all of her weight and her might to keep them shut. A regular Steve Irwin, if she could be so bold.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma

These beasts are certainly work, but Davey is enjoying himself far too much. Really laying into the beast, while he stood astride it. An onslaught of teeth and claws, digging in and bearing down. Scraping against the armored skin, so vicious that a scale comes lose in his mouth. Gross. Davey spits it out, pinging off the croc's eye and into the water.

Snarling, breathing deep, and digging deep. It's all Davey can do as he tries to get through the armored beast, and hold on for dear life. Right, they're dragging them all to the banks. He can do that. Well, he can try. Hopping into the shallows to herd it, savagely nipping at its heels, they pressure the beast onto the warm sand.

"speech"