"Get off of me!" Solv wheezed from beneath his enormous friend. "Moron."
He probably would have been more effective at putting up a fight had he not wasted his breath on complaints and insults, but at his core, that was what Solv was, a sharp-tongued whiner, and so the fact that he did those two things first ought to come as a surprise to exactly nobody. So his first two reactions were useless, but his third one finally had some practical application: he tried to wriggle his hindquarters into a crouching position so he could (in theory) propel himself upward (haha) and fling Gunnar off of him (yeah, right).
When his efforts (predictably) failed, he went back to complaints and insults. "Your a** must be made of stone. How do you weigh this much?"
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