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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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It was... nice that the Raider pups responded with the same energy. It was almost like, maybe he belonged here all along? He didn't have time to think on it for right now though, right now the roiling muscled were keeping him on his toes as he swung his body around, in shallower water now, to bite at the soft, pale scales exposed between the crocodiles' stubby legs. A soft belly to rip and tear at. To harass until the behemoth pulled itself up onto the sand where they could end this once and for all. Or so he could tell himself that was the way it would go. He was sure the odds were in their favour.

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Careful to not lose his balance and tip face forward into the water, Corsair maintained his perch on the crocs thick neck. Tide lived up to his nickname and led the croc closer to shore, his brother holding on for dear life and pouncing forward to bap the crocs jaws shut prematurely any time it lunged to snap at the smaller wolf, like a twisted life or death version of whack-a-mole.

Problem was, it drew the crocs attention to his presence, and the great beast turned a reptilian eye in his direction before it suddenly rolled, dumping the near yearling into the shallow water and churning mud.

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Gilda hadn't anticipated just how muscular crocodile tails were, and armoured, with scutes that dug into the roof of her mouth, but they were so close to the shore and despite being flung to the left and right with each powerful thrust of its tail, she was gradually inching the beasty step by step closer to the shore. Damn those teeth would make a cool necklace. Maybe once they were done, Ken would teach her how to make one?

A low growl rumbled in her chest as her paws finally connected with silty sand, rather than ankle deep water. She let go of her hold and lunged for a stubby limb that was already missing a clawed foot. Seemed like the big lizards weren't even friendly with each other. The pop of snapping jaws did little to deter her.

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Their game of whack a mole was fun, but it would probably need to come to an end before anyone lost their toes. Tide sighed begrudgingly, already trying to figure out how to bear down on the beast. It doesn't take long before it rolls, though, in a mad lunge for Corsair. He snaps and snarls, going for the exposed throat without a second thought. He'd be too close for the beast to take in its jaws. Yeah, easy enough. Savage, reckless, and deeply violent. There's rage pent up in the boy, who's to say where it comes from. All that matters is that it's unleashed, directly into the croc's neck. Yeet, motherfucker.

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Energy. So much energy. It overflows them, and Mercy is feeding on it. Fueled by it, emboldened, in the worst way. In every worst way. Savage, as she tears into the crocodile before her. Dully, she's aware of another sizing her up. They're everywhere, and there's so many of them. Focus, focus. Focus on the one before her, even if it feels like she's being hunted somewhere in the background.

Snarling and snapping, she's able to get closer to the soft underbelly of her primary target. Between Pyxis and Mercy, they're doing a good job of wearing the thing down. She can feel flesh giving way in the rear leg, blood beginning to drain from the bastard as she worked. All she needed to do was dodge a few more chomps from whatever stray fucker was staring her down, and they'd be home free.

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Davey is quick, savage, and brutal. There's something terrible brewing within the boy, something it's hard to see unless the light hits him in the right way. This is one of those times. Every decision the boy makes, he makes in an instant. As the croc reaches out for Mercy, he leaps down its back. Teeth flashing, snapping, snarling. One tooth jamming directly through the beast's eye, and he's quick to go for the second. Blinding the fucker before it can endanger any of the rest of them, and ignoring the fact he's the one who'd gotten them into this.

As the croc rolls to snap blindly for him, Davey kites to the side. Kicking sand into its mouth, and trying to reposition. Better access to the belly would mean better access to the kill, after all.

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Between Mercy and Pyx, the water stained red. Ripping teeth finally finding purchase in the softer underside of the behemoth, it thrashed, trying to beat and escape to deeper water, but not today. The boy pulled with a fierce tenacity, intent on getting it up on the shore where they could finish it off. Dragging ever so slowly as the life drained from it in the water. Maybe the others would pay attention as the Raiders butchered their companions. Maybe they'd finally learn the wolves weren't prey.

It movements were getting more sluggish, the fight seeming to go out of it with a finally thumping groan, but the boy wouldn't stop in his dragging and ripping, not until they were out of the water, and he was sure it was dead.

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Tumbling, churning, white water and displaced silt. A paw found the bottom of the estuary and he pushed up, colliding with something on his ascent, it catching on his antlers and staining the water red. A violent thrashing and he was displaced again, trying to find his way to the surface, white dots dancing in the corner of his vision.

Sweet relief as his head breaks the surface, greedily gulping down air, paddling to gain a footing in the silt and join his brother dragging the limp, gored beast up onto the sand. Waste not want not, or something like that. They had crafters who would make use of what was left.

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coded by NachoMumma