Stavanger Bay Really bad eggs.

That tiny screw-up with timing was a boon to the man, who saw the opportunity to grab at his opponent and really throttle them. He let loose a roar as he bore down upon her; grabbing at her as he wrenched himself in to a crescent to defiantly pull free of her own grip. As soon as he made contact Firefly used his momentum to thrust her out of the water and on to the land, driving her against the dirt.

He could feel the stinging of his lacerated hocks but ignored it as best he could, swaggering from the shallows as he fought against her body; he felt superior for that instant, his dark shape a monolith rising from the sea as if it truly was his own dominion.