Hideaway Strath You call but I just cut the line

He's crushed under the bigger boy's weight. The grass flattens beneath their scuffle and Turmeric shimmies with a gasp of distress. The blows he throws miss Alduin by and large, save for one accidental hit against the older boy's face. The contact does nothing to soften the roughhousing. If anything, it spurs the older boy on.

Turmeric knows the sound of playing, even though this doesn't feel like playing. Not the way he tussles with Mulberry and Thyme. He can't seem to wriggle out from under Alduin's grasp. Turmeric shies his face away from Alduin's teeth, and catches the ruddy glimpse of an onlooker - but he is more focused on the weight he throws into the thrust of his hind paws. All his weight, directed into this effort to batter Alduin in the stomach and perhaps find a glimpse of freedom to scurry away from the boy and into the clear.