Not only did Grimlock have to deal with the humiliation of losing his traction and unable to steady himself and splat in the mud, Peregrine made it measurably worse by encouraging Junior — who did not seem to need much of it as it was — to attack the raptor while he was down. A ‘gee thanks’ glare what shot at his uncle half heartedly but sarcastic all the same as the child wheeled around and seemed to put all her momentum into her little body as she raced to where Grimlock had fallen, trying to desperately push himself up only to fall into the mud again with a low curse. Junior was on him, then, before he could even think to react further, her teeth at his throat. There was a pause of a beat in Grimlock’s shock that he didn’t even realize she was literally biting at his throat. “Hey, hey, hey!” The words were blurting out of his mouth, reprimanding. Her hunting instincts were strong and that was great but not when it was his own throat she was chomping down on. He wasn’t prey and she needed to be able to distinguish the difference.
As the prospect Caretaker he assumed (even if it was wrongly so at that point the raptor really didn’t care) that he was in the ok to reprimand her for going for his throat. It was a kill target and this was just a game, besides, Grimlock sure as hell didn’t want to have to explain to the parents why one of the other kiddos was dead because Junior launched at their throats and did real damage. Peregrine had pulled her back, thankfully before Grimlock would have been forced too and he rose to his paws, his whole underside and parts of his face streaked with mud, his throat was itchy where she had broken skin small little trickles of blood mixing with the earthen substance that almost coated him.
“Jesus Junior,” His brow was furrowed and while he was only a little mad it was fading because she was damned cute but he also didn’t think that was a behavior Peregrine should be encouraging especially when it was on a pack mate. After all, it wasn’t generally acceptable to kill during play — or maybe that was just Grimlock’s thoughts but what did he know. “I’m not prey, ok? And for the record, I like my throat unmangled, thanks.” He took a deep breath and let it out, staring at the pair of them kind of concerned that Peregrine didn’t really seemed all that bothered by it. He plopped down on his haunches to scratch behind his ear, spraying it with mud too. “I think we should take her hunting so she can tell the difference between prey and not-prey.” The teen grumbled as a suggestion but otherwise had all but brushed the incident off. Now, he knew to keep his throat protected from her the next time. Apparently, Caretaking was a lot of trial and error.