Death Roll

Viðarr's eyebrows lifted as Lorikeet gave him some insight on the beast before him. The jaws, go for the jaws. Fascinating... he couldn't think of any time that he'd needed to dispatch a predator quite like this one. You learn something new every day, he supposed. This was certainly new, and required new strategy. Viðarr was happy to learn, happy to throw himself at this problem, full force.

Keetie clung to the croc's back, digging in. As the croc closed its mouth, Viðarr seized the moment. He struck hard and fast, massive jaws clasping around the bastard's closed jaws with a snap and a snarl. Those teeth dug in hard and fast, doing as much damage as he possibly could in the moment. The viking king could feel the crushing of bone within his grasp, the sickening cracking. The croc started to shift and roll, trying to make its escape. Viðarr dug in hard, holding on for what felt like dear life. Fuck, how could this living dinosaur be this strong?

"Viðarr"