wild roses in the wasteland

The headlock is successful and Raumr revels in it for a moment. Even as the youngster bucks beneath him, Raumr holds his ground. Hind paws digging into the packed dirt, claws extended to help keep his balance. His head surges forward, aiming for the boy's scruff, ensuring he misses being gored by those sharp, sharp antlers. Squeezing even a bit tighter as the boy seeks to bite his paws, Raumr aims to latch his sharp cat teeth into the boy's scruff, keeping hold of the headlock. It felt like riding a bucking bronco, but if he could wait out the boy's energy, surely he would win.

Raumr Regalus, the Third