Stone Circle Little one

Grah! In defense, Astrid swats at him with a clunky paw as if he were a vicious beast and her limbs were her mighty weapons! You must die!
She lopes a good yard away from him as if she were going to make him chase her, but of course, this was not her master plan.
She pauses mid-gallop, paws digging into the dirt, before she turns abruptly on her heels and makes a mad dash right for him. Up goes her torso into the air and right over his back does she flop in a very amateur attempt at a tackle! Her teeth reach for his ears, his nape, anywhere she can put her mouth; eyes wild with fiercely knit brows, a symphony of grumbles and growls erupting from her chest.