Death Roll

He'd been working from the top down, clearing the dens of bears and other assorted predators... but it was mostly bears. Like mostly-mostly bears. He would also be happy not to have to see or deal with them again, but that would be wishful thinking. Now that the mountain was mostly clear, Viðarr would need to worry about the Steppe. The broad, flat lands would hopefully be a good place to start training, as well as hunting and fishing. Sure, the prey was good enough on the mountain, but sometimes it was nice to not have to worry about throwing yourself off a cliff chasing a goat. It's the little things.

As he makes his rounds, Lorikeet catches his attention. Viðarr offered a grumble by way of greeting, or at least announcing his presence. Wouldn't want her to think he was sneaking, or anything, but he doesn't have much to say. Well, at least until he gets closer. Head tilting absently to one side as he moves towards the edge of the water. Curious as to what's grabbed her atten-- "Jävla helvete." The shadow realized just what was in the water about a heartbeat too late. The lump in the water thrashed to life, causing his heart to drop into his stomach.

In a surprisingly fluid motion for his size, Viðarr engaged with the crocodile. Head low, jumping in front of Lorikeet. A protector through and through, he wasn't going to let anyone get eaten today.

"Viðarr"