'I'll do the honours; I haven't made many five-pointers-'
Zephyr neighed in what I presumed was derision. 'You haven't made any! Remi, I mean no offence, but we can't have you going up against the best of the best.'
Remi slammed his fists together in another fit of rage before dropping to sit on the substitute bench, his face still flush.
'Who then? Because let me tell you, I can distract, I can outmanoeuvre, but shooting from the halfway line with nothing but talent? That's not me.'
Butland whistled. 'We don't have long before the other team's come in here, and unlike us, they've got a lot of experienced players. Zephyr's our solution, period.'
I nodded. 'Well, the Uebra can change the ball's trajectory in mid-air.'
'Precisely.' Butland replied, turning at the sound of hurried footsteps growing louder.
'Look what we have here! Which of you pipsqueaks do I need to beat first?'
