Crunch

The crocodile was as wild as anything he'd ever rode before - which, realistically, was nothing.. because no matter how much he wanted to ride both the elephant and the giraffe, the opportunity had not presented itself. It flailed and thrashed, making terrifying noises deep in it's throat that brought Mitros's fur to stand on end. At Tyrfing's insisting he continued to crawl up along the spine, wishing he'd inherited claws like his cousin that he could use to properly secure a hold upon the scales with.

As the crocodile flailed once more, Mitros nearly lost his balance. Instinct drove his teeth down into it's flesh for proper purchase, and the crocodile recoiled beneath him. It was not a deadly injury, but it served as both distraction and a fifth hold upon the crocodile's leathery skin. He waited until the croc's movements slowed once more as it sized up it's land-locked opponents, released his jaws, scurried up another foot, and landed another bite to secure himself. Slowly, surely, he'd make it to the head. All the while, Mitros yelled muffled profanity and insult back toward his viking cousin against the creature's hide.

"Speech"