A televised match and the hyena zipping on his broom, snatching the disc with his magic repeatedly, is all the rage. Over the speakers he can distantly hear them call him the Disc Thief. It's barely audible with the wind whipping into his ears.
These big guys all looked down on him. He's small and thin and magically he ISN'T very powerful. The amount of magic he holds might be the weakest across both teams.
But that doesn't matter when you know how to use it. Doesn't matter when that scrawny body makes you faster than everyone else. Doesn't matter when your precision with that weak magic is perfect.
The hyena's a defense player. He stops goal after goal after goal. No big hurrah of sinking his own shot. But he doesn't need that. He passes the disc to the right spot every time. The team captain is always there waiting. He never misses.
That captain didn't step in earlier, when those rivals were sneering at you. Talking shit about hyenas--crude and plain beasts, aren't hyenas they said. He didn't do a thing. Except smirk.
Because he knew this moment would come and it'd be so much more delicious for them to suffer this loss. And he plays into it, making sure they hear him yell his approval and praises when this kid helps him achieve a goal. It's not because he's the kind of captain that heaps praise.
He's the kind that slams salt into the wounds of his enemies. And that suits this hyena just fine. Because it is delicious. It's perfect.
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S P O R T S
These big guys all looked down on him. He's small and thin and magically he ISN'T very powerful. The amount of magic he holds might be the weakest across both teams.
But that doesn't matter when you know how to use it. Doesn't matter when that scrawny body makes you faster than everyone else. Doesn't matter when your precision with that weak magic is perfect.
The hyena's a defense player. He stops goal after goal after goal. No big hurrah of sinking his own shot. But he doesn't need that. He passes the disc to the right spot every time. The team captain is always there waiting. He never misses.
That captain didn't step in earlier, when those rivals were sneering at you. Talking shit about hyenas--crude and plain beasts, aren't hyenas they said. He didn't do a thing. Except smirk.
Because he knew this moment would come and it'd be so much more delicious for them to suffer this loss. And he plays into it, making sure they hear him yell his approval and praises when this kid helps him achieve a goal. It's not because he's the kind of captain that heaps praise.
He's the kind that slams salt into the wounds of his enemies. And that suits this hyena just fine. Because it is delicious. It's perfect.