Crunch

Stick-samurai did not seem to quite jive with the nickname, and Tyrfing shot him a grin as he introduced himself properly. "Really? What sort of warrior prefers his birth name to one earned in the heat of battle?" He questioned, watching as the branch-wielding man moved in with his makeshift weapon and with it, gouged out the crocodile's eye. The stick, however, did not survive the encounter. Fin tsk'ed in sympathy. "Shame, I suppose you'll have to stick with Mercury after all."

Mitros was still taking his sweet ass time, letting the stranger get all the glory. It was sad, really. "That boy up there is my cousin, Mitros." He introduced from a distance, leaping back as the croc spun and snapped it's jaws out toward him once more. With one eye short, it's depth perception had suffered. It was likely Tyrfing hadn't needed to jump at all do have dodged it. "He wants the skin when we're through, so no more sticks, no more poking - got it?" Circling the crocodile, and taking small, distracting bites to it's thick limbs, he watched as Mitros continued to climb. "You hear that boy? Take too long and Mercury here is going to impale it, and that'll be no new bracers for you! Get to it's head, find something soft and squishy, and sink your teeth into it until it stops moving."