The Winged Heir made his way down to the beach, thoughts of fishing on his mind. It was late morning, and the sun sat heavily in the sky above. Warm, despite the fact that the winter season had started. He was just about to step into the gently lapping waves when his Kea let out a sharp call. He froze, and took another look to see what startled her. There, sitting on the Armada banks was the giant form of a Saltwater Crocodile. He let his breath hiss out softly. It was only the second time such a creature had made their way into Armada territory. Without wanting to howl out and alert his prey, he raised his head and looked about him, seeing if there were any warriors about that might be game to take on such a creature. His eyes landed on a sandy toned wolf walking down the beach. Pssst!” Mortis called out “Over here!” "Mortis"

To say Dream was still riding his high of being let into the pack was probably an understatement. All day he'd been getting glimpses of those missing parts of himself reflected in the wolves around him; a group of friends laughing at a joke muttered over a shared kill, a pair of warriors locked in a spar and exchanging friendly jabs, wolves just being what they were and living how they were supposed to. And maybe he didn't know any of them yet, and maybe he wasn't exactly included in any of their shit yet, but he was here in the middle of it when only yesterday he'd been on the outside string in.

The beach, he discovered quickly, was going to be a favorite for him. He could already see the potential for training, and as Sirius had assured him this would also be prime fishing territory too. Not to mention he was totally a fan of slacking off in the sun from time to time- only when he had nothing else to do of course.

As he was contemplating all of this though, he was snapped from his thoughts by a hushed voice calling out to him.

"Psst! Over here!"

Green eyes quickly found the culprit, landing on the other wolf with a questioning gaze. He tried not to be too distracted by the wings and all the other cool shit they had going on, and instead followed their gaze to the shoreline up ahead. Well, that was...just great. Keeping out of it's site he'd pad over to join the other wolf, coming to a stop beside them with his eyes still lingering on the croc. "Your friend's quite the looker." he joked, the sarcasm in his words obvious. "Got any ideas on how to get rid of it?" he asked, a brow arching as his gaze slid toward them. Cuz he was down. Time to prove he wasn't useless.

"Speech"



Despite the situation, Mortis grinned at the wolf. He was new to Armada by the look and smell of him. His fathers scent on his coat telling him all he needed to know - that he was one of them. He also got the picture pretty quickly, and slunk over on silent paws. Mortis wiggled a paw at him, a silent greeting from the usually enthusiastic wolf. He also huffed a soft laugh in appreciation to the other wolf’s jest. “Killing them is difficult with that thick hide” he mused softly. His father, the reckless Warlord would likely opt to kill it, but Mortis reckoned scaring it off might do the trick. “They snap their jaws pretty quick, but perhaps we could harass it by the tail enough for it decide to leave?” he suggested, raising a brow and looking to the other wolf for his opinion. “I’m Mortis, by the way” "Mortis"

Dream listened as the other spoke, agreeing that the animals thick skin and jaws were going to pose a problem. Staying clear of the front end seemed like a smart idea to him, so no arguments there. "That tail looks pretty strong so we'll have to stay sharp if we're gonna fuck around with it, but I think it's our best bet. It's back legs look pretty soft compared to the rest of it too." And soft meant more pain if they manaed to land a good bite, so he'd probably give it a try.

At the mention of their name a light grin would settle on his lips, the alphas words of a dogpile slipping into his mind with amusement. "Oh yeah, your dad mentioned you back when I joined. Nice to finally meet you. The name's Dream."

"Speech"



The Winged Heir gave a quick nod of his head. “Good point!” he agreed easily, his voice still soft, as he gave another look over the creature. With his unnatural fangs, Mortis would have the best shot at piercing its hide, but if he got a tooth stuck in those scales he’d be a goner. He did twitch a brow at the mention of his dad. “He… did? Huh.’ he mused, before shaking his head. Gotta keep his mind on the fight. “Alright I’ll go give him a good wake up, you go for those hind legs, yeah?” He suggested, before breaking cover and running for the front end of the beast. He kept light on his paws, just out of striking range of the creature. Scrambling in the sand, he found a shell and lobbed it at its snout. “Hey! You scaly bastard!” "Mortis"

Dream was ready. His parents and siblings had always said he had a bad habit of looking for trouble, but he had never really looked at it like that, The blonde was just a little headstrong was all, and didn't see the point in putting things off. After all, when tragedy or misfortune struck there often wasn't time to waste on calmly sorting things out. You had to act quickly and with confidence, making a plan but doing it efficiently. Sure, they could have gone back to the pack and got more people to make it safer and all that jazz, but there was no point in risking it slipping away unconfronted or leaving it to snap at some unsuspecting bystander while they were gone. The two of them would be enough, and if it wasn't then the rest of the pack would learn from their mistakes.

As Mortis rushed from their hiding place making as much noise as he could muster, Dream crouched low and waited for his moment. The second the crocs head snapped in the other wolfs direction he broke from his cover, streaking across the blonde sand with fur that blended him well against it's backdrop. Without a moment hesitation he lunged foreward to snap his jaws at the hind limb of the scaled beast, aiming to give the small limb a short but furious threashing before darting clear of any oncoming teeth or tails.

"Speech"

Mortis flared his impressive wings and snarled at the crocodile. Doing his best to look big, impressive, and someone you wouldn’t want to take your eyes off. From that position, he watched as Dream stealthy moved across the sand. Mortis threw another shell at the crocodile which was giving him the stink-eye, just as Dream attacked. The crocodile began to thrash and turn to face its attacker Mortis threw himself forward, using the distraction to grab the creature's long snout and press his weight down upon it. With Dream at its back, and Mortis on its front, it thrashed beneath them. “Wait till its pointing at the ocean, and then let's high tail it and see if he’s had enough and leaves, yeah?” he called out from his merry-go-round spot on the creature's snout. "Mortis"

The crocs skin wasn't like anything Dream had bitten into before. It was tough and stiff, like a calloused piece of flesh that he had to work his fangs into. But like all flesh that had met his fangs before, it too yielded under his crushing bite and thrashing head. Blood sprung forth into his jaws and filled his senses with metal and salt, and he felt the jerk of the beasts body as it swung it's head toward him only to be stopped by Mortis, whod leapt down on it's jaws and was keeping them pinned shut. The other wolfs words rang out to him above the struggling and the sounds of his own snarls, and he caught their eyes to let them know he'd heard them loud and clear. Using the mass of his body he pulled viciously at the enemies leg, attempting to help steer it as it thrashed until it's head was pointed more toward the water. With any luck the next time it saw a wolf it would keep this encounter in mind and move along quickly, becaue Dream didn't want to see what those jaws could do to someone who got caught in them.

"Speech"