(1941-06-13) Centaur Games
Details for Centaur Games
Summary: Some of the Starchasers take over the Quidditch Pitch for a game of Rothdoan, a centaur sport. Some curious students come along and are invited to join.
Date: 13 June, 1941
Location: Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts

In the middle of the Quidditch pitch, a half dozen centaurs have gathered on the grass. They have laid out a ring of stones, 40 feet in diameter, at the center of which is a large woven basket.

Already, the centaurs hooves are tearing up divots in the grass. Ogg is going to be annoyed.

The dark-maned Cyrene trots around with a large sack, tossing several leather balls to the ground around the outside of the ring. Each is a little bigger than a bludger.

Ealisaid does a bit of a dance, a ritualistic warm up, and while Josie might have seen the warrior do a dance to just mess with the humans, this 'dance' is serious and has a haka vibe to it, nothing flowery and pretty. Full of 'going to bring it!'. Once she's pumped she pulls a bit of flint from her satchel and goes to the ring to begin kneeling down on her fore-legs so she can bend over and start striking the flint on stones after plucking up some dry bits of pitch grass.

Word has gotten around that the Centaurs are 'up to something' on the Quidditch pitch. The holy Quidditch pitch. Oscar, the over-sized Hufflepuff Beater, is hurrying in that direction alongside Erica, the Hufflepuff Seeker. "What do you think they're doing?" Oscar's voice carries far too loudly across the field, and he stops in astonishment as he sees Ealisaid. "Is she.. starting a fire?" His eyes are wide, either from astonishment or excitement.

Exams, studying, and so on make this time of year kind of stressful. So, as Josie hears the centaurs of come out to the Quidditch field, she's quick to take advantage of the excuse for a break. So, she comes out, keeping a distance but moving to where she can see what's going on.

"I've no idea." Erica is almost forced to jog to keep up with the taller Hufflepuff, and she keeps her arms wrapped about herself to keep her robes from flapping about in the way. "Oh my goodness, look at the mess of the grass!" Unlike Oscar, she manages to keep her words somewhat hushed, though the dismay is still abundantly clear as she slows, eyeing the ploughed up turf with wide eyes. Oh the mess. Oh the humanity! "I sincerely hope not." she adds, in regard to the starting of a fire. For goodness sake, don't they have a camp for this sort of thing? This is the Quidditch Pitch!

Ealisaid is not having an easy time getting the fire started. She looks up and around and spots a familiar human face. "You! Giftless one." The flint in her hand is pointed towards Josie. "Bring some more dry grass. Need more for the ring." Tiny bits by tiny bits her English however thick with a Scottish Brogue that's also got strange hints of something else (the tongue of her race) in it gets better and better. Guard Duty has her interacting with the humans enough that she is picking up something each time.

Cyrene pauses at a familiar sound, her upper torso twisting to spy Ealisaid with the flint. "Eal! We said no fire!" She sighs and trots toward the warrior, wearing the expression of a mother amused by a child's antics. "We haven't got the pitch for it anyhow. That little tinder fire will fizzle in minutes." Cyrene chuckles as the glances over to the approaching children.

"..We should get a prefect." Oscar belatedly lowers his voice, but he's really not very good at that sort of thing. Being quiet. Being discreet. It doesn't come naturally to him. He keeps plodding forward toward the Centaurs, his genial features screwed up in confusion. His pace slows just a little bit, as he realizes that he's got just a few inches on Erica. Spotting Josie, the big Hufflepuff gives her a wave, recognizing the Gryffindor Seeker.

Josie waves to Oscar and Erica, giving a smile. She starts to walk in that direction, but then pauses as the centaur calls to her. She stops, blinking, and starts to glance around for source of dry grass other than manually plucking it and hoping it's dry enough. Then, though, as Cyrene speaks up, she stops again and looks back.

Little blonde Erica seems less keen to approach half a dozen great big centaurs, thank you very much. She hangs back now, a step or two behind Oscar, still eyeing the gathered creatures dubiously. Hearing one of them advise against a fire is at least slightly comforting, apparently; her features relax a fraction. But her feet are dragging reluctantly now and she eventually just comes to a halt, regardless of whether her friend keeps going.

Light brown eyes follow the friendly gesture towards Josie, who she offers as cheerful a smile as she can muster.. and considers more curiously as one of the centaurs addresses the Gryffindor in a rather familiar manner. How odd! Then again, this isn't exactly a normal situation at all. "..I'm sure someone will be along shortly.." she murmurs, though she bites worriedly on her lower lip. Well, hey, if nothing else this'll make for a great story, later!

Ealisaid gives a dejected sigh as she stands to rights on all fours. Grumpy because she can't have her fire she tucks the flint away, and while Cyrene knows her well enough to know she's just messing with the human's again, it's a completely serious face that she looks at Josie again. "Go find pitch." The tone and hand gestures she makes towards Josie and a shoo'ing motion are that of a human trying to talk to their dog and teach them a new trick. Go, Fetch. She looks to the number of centaurs and points a finger over their heads in the air doing a head count. She might sound a bit barbaric when she speaks in English, the musical whickers and whinnies sounds she makes at Cyrene speaking in their Native Tongue is something smooth and flowy. "«We need more. Think the white beard will be upset if the humans joined?"»" If she can't have her fire, at least she can get the satisfaction of messing with the humans, right?

Cyrene pinches her lips in an effort to stifle her laughter at Ealisaid. Showing mercy to the poor Gryffindor, she shakes her head at Josie, "No pitch, human child. Stay, and perhaps learn." She looks back to Ealisaid, eyebrow arched. "«Torrigan? He's fond of the humans. I'm sure he wouldn't mind. I see no omen warning against it.»" She turns and trots toward the humans with a warm smile. "Human children! You have the honour of learning Rothdoan. Come. Join us."

Oscar considers the field, the various balls, and the basket. That's a goal if he ever saw one. "It's a game!" He seems to relax considerably, though, boy, Ogg is going to be upset about that grass. He grins over his shoulder to Erica. "Come on!" How hard can it be? He's a Quidditcher. Everything else should be easy. He comes trotting toward the basket, obviously far more relaxed now that he has a vague idea of what's happening.

Heading onto the pitch from the Hogwarts grounds is young Billy Marlowe. He lifts a hand to his forehead, shielding his eyes from the sunlight as he catches sight of the centaurs and other students out in the middle of the pitch. With hardly a second thought, he begins walking out onto the field as if he owned the place… or at least had a personal invitation. Once he draws near enough, he lifts a hand toward Oscar and Erica, recognizing them from the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.

Josie looks relieved at Cyrene's correction, nodding. Then she brightens considerably as it becomes clear that they are going to learn a centaur game. Grinning, she steps forward, though looks back towards Erica hopefully, to see if she'll join despite the potential dirt.

Ohhh, a game. Not some sort of heathen ritual. Or well, maybe it is but there's a winner at the end of it. Similarly brightening at the notion, Erica follows after her teammate, her gaze flitting left and right as she regards the centaurs with quiet awe. They're awfully large. But… they seem friendly enough. And besides, she really ought to be a good shot. Assuming the game is as simple as its layout suggests, this could actually be fun. Yes, even with the potential for dirt. She'll just have to err… try and avoid the one doing the worst of the churning up, won't she. Noting Josie's glance, she flashes her friend a less tremulous smile this time, then wiggles the fingers of one hand in a wave toward Billy as he approaches. Well, if ever there were a good excuse for not studying, surely the promotion of centaur friendship is one of them?

Cyrene nods, giving the children a lopsided grin. "Good. You might be the first humans ever to learn Rothdoan. Listen well, for this is a sacred game. Fates may be divined by the outcome." She gestures all around the ring of stones. "This is the rothdoan…you might say 'wheel of fire'. But we will have no fire today." She shoots a smirk at Ealisaid. "We will make two teams: lobbers and dashers. Lobbers stay outside the wheel and try to throw balls into the basket. Dashers stay inside and run widdershins, trying to stop the lobbers' balls. Dashers can throw the balls back, and if a lobber is struck and does not catch the ball, the lobber is knocked out of the game. Anyone that crosses the rim of the wheel is out of the game, as well. If all of the lobbers are knocked out, the dashers win. If all of the balls go into the basket, the lobbers win. Any questions?"

"Oh, I think I understand." It seems simple enough. And Oscar knows he doesn't belong on the outside of the ring. He trots until he's standing near the basket and turns his head, beaming up at Cyrene. "Hullo." Though he's a Sixth-Year, and though he's quite a bit larger than many of the others, Oscar seems younger than his years in this moment — too enthusiastic, too cheerful altogether. Any former anxiety has been forgotten. "Thank you for letting us play," he says earnestly. And then he spots Billy, and waves broadly in the smaller boy's direction.

Walking closer to the others, Billy smiles kindly and says, "So what's going on? We're playing games?" He offers a wave toward Erica as well, and then toward Josie as he walks slowly over to stand on the outside of the ring. "I'll be one of the ones on the outside, if you want," he offers. "How is ti that we pick teams?" This last question is directed toward the Centaurs, who he gazes toward with a mixture of awe and complete respect.

Ealisaid sweeps her wheaty locks back and uses the braids as a ribbon to tie up the rest of her hair. The last time her hair was fashioned like that she was covered in blood and storming onto the campus with the Swift Arrows at her heels. A bit more warming up with some arm swinging and torso twisting goes towards the outer circle. Much like Oscar Ealisaid assumes the omens will have that the mightiest warriors of the herd be a Lobber! Doing the same thing he's doing doesn't keep her from harrassing the young man. "The Omens tell teams." She points gruffly for him to get back out of the circle. Harassing the humans does bring her such contentment.

Cyrene chuckles, shaking her head at Oscar in amusement. She looks to Billy, nodding as she answers his question, confirming Ealisaid's words: "The Fates decide the teams." She reaches into the purple fabric that serves as a covering for her bosom (leaving her belly partially bare…scandalous!), withdrawing a small pouch. She kneels down and opens the pouch, taking out ten stones, which she casts to the grass in front of her. Then she stares in silence, examining how the stones fell.

Josie grins cheerfully to Erica, and says, "Brilliant. Hope we're on the same team." Then, she waves to Billy as well, before turning her attention back to respectfully listen to the rules. She nods with a smile, and says, "I understand." She watches with fascination as Cyrene begins to divine the teams.

Ealisaid's gruff answer has Oscar looking rather nervous. Perhaps he just made a major faux-pas. Given his luck, it's likely. But Cyrene's amusement puts him at ease and he straightens, looking over to Erica and — not very discreetly — pointing down at the stones in excitement. He begins edging back to the other students. "It's like rune-casting, maybe." The big kid begins rising and falling on his toes, bouncing a bit as he waits to see what comes next.

"It's like dodgeball, but in a circle." Nodding, apparently satisfied with the comparison she murmurs to herself, Erica moves forward rather more shyly; naturally staying on the outside of the ring. A look askance goes toward Oscar, in perhaps a flicker of private amusement at his enthusiasm, before her gaze settles on Ealisaid. She's forced to tilt her head back to properly regard the blonde centaur, but she offers her a slow smile in greeting all the same. Apparently content to leave it to others to ask the pressing questions, the Hufflepuff remains quiet for now, watching the stones being cast with the same interest as everyone else.

Billy's brows lift in surprise and he makes a silent, "Ah," of understanding as the Fates are mentioned. He walks closer, watching as Cyrene casts the stones and begins to decipher their meaning, glancing only occasionally to the other students to gauge their reaction to this manner of picking teams.

Cyrene looks up from the stones, examining the sky, shielding her eyes as she gazes toward the sun. Then she nods, collecting the stones and rising to her feet. "The signs are clear. You, you, you, you, and you," she points to Billy, Oscar, Ealisaid, and two of the other centaurs, "are dashers. The rest of us are lobbers." She tucks away the stones, reaching out to ruffle Billy's hair as she trots to the edge of the wheel. "Lobbers! Pick up a ball! You may only hold one ball at a time!"

"Alright. I'll see you guys." Oscar turns around again, running back into the center of the ring. "Widdershins," he mutters to himself. "Widdershins." He takes a practice lap around the circle, either to warm up or to remind himself what direction he needs to be going. "Come on, Billy!" And as he passes in front of Erica, he gives a quick, cheerful, wave, acknowledging her amusement. Under his breath again, as he stops. "Widdershins.."

Billy laughs as Cyrene ruffles his hair and then quickly takes out after Oscar as he begins to run laps around the ring. He has to work a bit harder, the Hufflepuff's longer legs making Billy have to run faster to keep up. He listens to him muttering and then calls out in a slightly confused voice, "What is a widdershins?"

Ealisaid guffaws and grumbles about Cyrene not being the greatest diviner as she trots to the center ring. Oscar is given a friendly enough shove in the right direction and she gives him the friendly advise of, "Don't get trampled." The smile she gives him just looks like a shark smiling at a fist. Then as she takes her place she gives a few whooping sounds and trills. She claps and then holds her hands out, getting ready to smash some balls away from the basket.

Nodding acceptance, despite the faintest wrinkle of her nose, Erica flashes a smile in passing to the two boys who get to run around ouside the circle, then enters it herself, stepping daintily over the stones laid out to mark the perimeter. Stooping, she picks up one of the leather balls, testing its weight consideringly in her hands, tossing and catching it a few times. Well, if she turns out to be good at this, maybe she'll try out for Keeper next term. Then someone else can be the Seeker. Yes. Good plan, well done Erica. Glancing up at Ealisaid as the centauress trots by, the little blonde quirks a brow as she overhears the friendly advice. Hmm. She hadn't considered that. Casting a wary glance to the creature's massive hooves, she follows through with a look to Josie; her expression plainly conveying an 'oh dear..' moment.

Josie grins again, nodding as she runs out to take a position as one of the lobbers. She picks up one of the balls, passing it between her hands as she starts to test the weight of it. It's different, of course, to the quaffle she's used to from her first two years as a chaser. She smiles to Erica, and says, "It'll be fine. But, you're supposed to be out here."

Oscar stumbles as the huge Centaur shoves him, and for the first time, it appears to dawn on him that he's running with Centaurs. One of whom, at least, doesn't seem to mind trampling him into the mud. "It's counterclockwise," he tells Billy, slowing his pace. "Hey, be really careful, alright?" He looks over at Ealisaid gravely, his features painfully earnest, taking everything at face value. "Let's not get trampled." He looks around at the balls outside the circle, and the basket behind him, and squares his shoulders. "This would be a lot easier to keep running with four legs."

Billy would have audibly gulped upon seeing Ealisaid shove Oscar so easily, were it not for the increasing thunder of hooves as the Centaurs inside the ring begin to run along and around the two human boys. He nods his head as he too glances sideways to examine the running centaurs. "Surely they won't trample us, will they? That would ruin the summer…" He returns his eyes back to the larger boy in front of him and just keeps running. Just. Keep. Running.

Cyrene grins at Josie. The child catches on quickly. "Remember, lobbers," she advises her team, "Those dashers can only move widdershins, but we can move anywhere outside the wheel. Use that." She clutches a ball in her hands and trots around the outer ring to find a starting position. "The game begins when the first bird flies over the wheel!" She casts her eyes to the sky, as do the rest of the centaurs…waiting.

With an 'oh' of realisation, Erica hops back out over the stones, smirking sheepishly at Josie and trying to find herself a spot where she's not in the way.

Ealisaid is what most, centaur and human might call competitive. Since it would mean a 'foul' and an out for a lobber who throws before a bird passes over Ealisaid looks to the sky as well and tries to convince a lobber or two that a bird has passed over by 'Oh!'ing in a 'there it is!' manner while using her finger to follow the trajectory of the not really there bird over the wheel. All as she easily runs in circles. This is what she meant by her friendly advise, most of the centaurs aren't paying a lot of attention to the area blow their torsos right now.

Oscar dodges another Centaur running the circle, barely avoiding a hoof to the foot. He's already breathing hard, sweat streaking down his face. "I'm beginning to wish.." he mutters to Billy, "..That I'd drawn the other stone." But he's a strong lad, and he keeps trotting on. Realizing that he may have been discouraging, he reaches over to punch Billy on the shoulder. "Come on. Let's just keep running. The bird'll be here soon." How, exactly, he's going to block a Centaur's throw, Oscar has no idea.

Billy nods his head and continues to run on, glancing up quickly every now and again, but mostly looking forward as he doesn't want to stumble and get trampled. "I hope the bird comes soon," he says, sweat beginning to run down his face and back as he charges along. "I hope they don't throw them all really high. I will have to hope one of the Centaurs comes along and picks me up."

Josie smiles to Erica, and says, after the attempted fake out, "I don't think she knows we're both seekers." Giggling, she does watch the sky, not falling for it and waiting until she sees an actual bird. Of course, there's also centaur lobbers, but she's assuming Ealisaid's ploy is meant for the humans.

"I doubt it!" replies Erica, with a soft chuckle. Do centaurs pay any attention to Quidditch? Given the lack of concern over the pitch, one would have to assume emphatically not. The blonde offers a toothy grin toward Billy and Oscar as they pass by yet again. "I like being a lobber, so far." Standing still in her chosen spot now, she casts her gaze upward, squinting a little in the sunlight. Come on, bird! Surely someone's got an owl to send?

Finally it happens a bird flies over and the lobbers are immediately throwing a flurry of balls through the inner circle.

Run. Keep running. Dodge left. Dodge right. Oscar's panting now, well and truly warmed up, his head on a swivel. It's unfortunate, then, that his head swivels right when it should be looking left. Here comes a ball soaring right at him. It should be an easy catch. It should be. He reaches up and, just at that moment, a passing Centaur comes a little too close and.. Ow. "OW!" Oscar is hopping around on his left foot now. It takes him a moment to realize he has been trampled. Erica's ball goes neatly into the basket

"I'm alright! I'm alright!" But he's not, really, and he reluctantly hops out of the circle. As he makes his way out of the circle, he's already humming, even through the pain. Hum. Hum. Hum. "Went down to the pitch..nah-nah-nah-nah.. Centaurs were there.. nah-nah-nah-nah. Something-something-something… I've got the hoof-stompin' blues.." Just cannot keep a good Hufflepuff down. He limps off toward the Infirmary, waving a hand over his shoulder.

At last! As the centaurs start hurling the leather balls at the dashers - with no small amount of force, mind you - Erica bides her time. The boys will be keeping out of the way of massive hooves and she's got a rough idea of when to expect them — aha! Arcing her arm through the air, the little blonde flings her ball just as Oscar gets waylaid by a giant hoof to the toe. Well, better than an arrow to the knee. In a rare outburst, the girl whoops and claps her hands together soundly as the ball soars into the basket! She does pause, of course, to make sure her friend is going to manage to hobble… yes, yes, he's fine. Play on!

Cyrene wastes no time. The moment the bird is overhead, she sends her first ball sailing toward the basket. She's got exceptional aim…but Ealisaid is quick on her hooves and all too ready to shut down the spoilsport that ended her dreams of fire. Ealisaid snatches Cyrene's ball right out of the air, hurling it toward another lobber, who takes it square in the haunch. He's out! Cyrene grumbles and snatches up another ball and throws. This one sinks in, but the next…how did Ealisaid get around the wheel so fast?! The ball is slapped to the ground.

Billy is still running, panting along and occasionally wiping the sweat that beads on his forehead and runs down his nose. As the bird makes its way overhead, he lets out a, "Finally!" and then balls are soaring through the air. As Oscar gets stepped on, Billy darts around him so as to not make it worse, a sympathetic wince on his face as he looks up and there is a ball sailing before him. He lifts both hands and jumps upward, snagging it out of the air and lands, still running. "I got one! I got one! Now what?" he calls out as he keeps running, pretty sure he is supposed to throw the ball back, but not wanting to be the first one.

While the students celebrate their singular victories, the more experienced centaurs are exchanging a hurricane of thrown balls. A ball drops into the basket, then another, but for every score, a half-dozen shots miss or are blocked by the vigilant dashers. Another lobber is knocked out, leaving only Cyrene and her human allies.

Cyrene starts running clockwise around the wheel, opposite the dashers. "Timing is everything!" she shouts to Erica and Josie. "Throw is behind the dashers! They can't turn around!" She attempts to demonstrate, but a clever dasher stops in his tracks and kicks his hind legs backward to block her shot. Cyrene expels a sound that could only be a centaur curse word.

The short-lived victory departs Erica's expression as she suddenly realises she's without a ball. And the centaurs aren't exactly being gentle with their returns. "Agh!" There's laughter in her tone, yes, but she's keeping low, ready to at least try and dodge any throws her way, nodding grim understanding in response to Cyrene's shouted advice. Makes perfect sense, of course. Just one problem… they're coming back around. And now some of them are armed!

Waiting for just the right second, so she doesn't throw too early, Josie throws a split second after the centaurs do, only to see Billy catch it. She is grinning, though, enjoying it, and calls to Billy, "Throw it back out, try to tag us out."

Billy continues to run, cradling the ball in his elbow as he glances over his shoulder trying to make sure no Centaur are about to step on HIS feet. Around the circle he goes, watching as he draws near to the lobbers and then he throws, sending his ball back out toward Josie.

Cyrene reaches out to snag a ball from the air, denying a dasher's attempt to knock her out. She bides her time, waits for the opening, and sends the ball zinging through the air. It circles the rim of the basket before dropping inside. But her victory is short lived, as two dashers take aim at her. She leaps over the first thrown ball, but the second smacks right into the side of her head, sending her sprawling directly toward Erica!

Concentrating on retrieving a ball to throw back, Erica's not immediately aware of the danger. Only when she straightens, the hint of a grin still playing about her lips, does she find herself in the careering path of the much, much larger centaur. Well, that's not good! Rooted to the spot, she only belatedly thinks to start scrambling backward, trying to avoid poor Cyrene… because it'll be the infirmary for her, too, if she doesn't get out of the way. No doubt about it. The ball rolls from her hands, going unnoticed by the little blonde, who's sent quite blindly flailing in reverse, eventually just landing on her backside in the grass and squeezing her eyes tight shut. If she avoids being crushed like a bug, she's likely going to be quite upset about the dirt and grass=stains.

Making an attempt to catch the ball, Josie dives towards it rather than away. Unfortunately, she spots the trouble Erica is in an that throws her off just enough that she gets hit, rather than catching it. She stumbles back, falling on her butt in the grass, but her attention is on Erica and Cyrene.

Cyrene tumbles to the ground, rolling with her own momentum. Oof! Was that the bag of extra balls she just rolled over? It was so soft and lumpy. When she finally stops herself she is on her side, a face full of dirt. She spits grass out of her mouth as she peers up to see…oh no. The child. "Gold-mane!" She curses in Centaur again, scrambling toward Erica.

Billy pumps a fist as Cyrene and Josie both get hit, and then he yells out far too late of a warning toward Erica as he sees the Centaur falling toward her.

Oh. Good. Grief. Not only is Erica hugging her right arm in tight against her upper body.. but she's all muddy. Of those present, probably only Josie really grasps what a disaster that is. The little blonde sits up blearily, moving quickly at first, then slowing as a wave of dizziness hits. "..am okayy…" she mumbles, in a rather similar manner to Oscar's prior assurances, before he limped off the field. Well, you don't get on a Quidditch team unless you're made of tough stuff. Flexing the fingers of her right hand, though, the girl gasps. "Nooo, I'm not…ow." The words, while she does her best to keep them light for the sake of the worried faces regarding her, are a little shaky this time. "I umm… think I'd best go to the infirmary, too. Can somebody help me up?" So polite, even now. With bits of grass in her hair. Ugh. She looks around, then to Josie, looking positively woeful.

Josie scrambles to her feet, "Erica!" She runs over, though slowing is Erica sits up again. She doesn't look too hurt, at least. She nods quickly, then, and steps up to try to help her up. "Yeah, I'll get you inside. Come on."

With almost the entire lobber team knocked out, the dashers' whirlwind of hooves slows as they come to gather at the edge of the wheel. A strapping young stallion of a centaur sighs, tossing a ball between his hands. He shrugs helplessly to his teammates, then gives the ball a gentle, underhand toss to tag Erica on the leg…leaving another dirt smudge. The dashers let out a whooping cheer at their victory, kicking up on their hind legs in celebration.

Cyrene pushes herself up to stand, frowning sympathetically down at Erica. "I am sorry, Erica," she says softly, guilt overshadowing her tone.

Erica grumbles, looking disgruntled as another smear of dirt is added to the very much unwanted collection, leaning on Josie a little and rising slowly to her feet. Fair play, though — the Dashers won. She has the good grace to cast the whooping creatures a wry smirk aside, before the shadow of Cyrene draws her attention. Looking up, still keeping her arm closely held, the little blonde musters a more convincing smile, despite looking a touch paler than usual. Her wrist is throbbing. "It wasn't your fault. I should have gotten out of the way quicker." There's a flicker of a smile toward Billy, too. "Congratulations, Billy." Then, back to the centaurs standing closest, she says, rather comically given the circumstances. "Err… thank you for letting us play?"

Billy seems torn as the Centaurs begin to cheer, but Erica is up, and maybe her arm is hurt but it isn't like she is dead or anything. Feeling like he has at least been a concerned friend, Billy turns over and runs to join the celebrating Centaurs, his arms lifted in the air as he jumps up and down yelling out in celebration along with them. "Hey guys! I got one out too, didn't you see?" he calls out, lifting his arm up in a high-five motion to the centaur that tagged Erica out.

Cyrene dips her head to Erica, brow furrowed. "I should not have-…" She sighs, cutting herself off. "You played well." With another nod to her and Josie, she steps toward the wheel to join her fellow centaurs — one of whom is trying to decipher what the high-fiving Billy is trying to do. The centaurs come together in a circle, linking arms and speaking a solemn prayer in Centaur — the ending of the ritual.

Josie nods in agreement with Erica, and says, "Yes, thanks for letting us play. I really enjoyed most of it, and learning about it." Then, however, she's leading Erica inside, towards the infirmary once again. Madam Spleen is going to start getting tired of seeing them come in together.

Not really too put down that he is left hanging by the Centaur, Billy puts his hand down and walks along to join the circle, he would even link arms if they offered to let him in. He sticks around for the prayer, and would likely do so until it got dark or the Centaur ignored him enough for him to get the hint that he should move along!

The centaurs are a bit surprised when Billy joins the circle, but Cyrene smiles down at the little man and offers her arm to him. The words are gibberish to the boy, but the reverent tone is clear. The prayer lasts only a few minutes, then the circle breaks. Sending Billy on his way, the centaurs start to clean up, removing the balls, basket, and stones…and leaving the pitch in a terrible state for the poor Keeper of Grounds to repair.

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