Juvenalas Penitatas
Chapter 30 – The Beautiful Game

Timothy Miller entered the meeting room and found a seat at the table of tense teachers. Mr Dax was at the head of the table with a pointing rod in one claw and a remote in the other. On the screen behind him was a copy of a staff-wide communication. He noted Timothy's arrival and smiled at the grey-scaled youth. “Glad you could join us. I'm sure we've all seen the e-mail by now, but just in case here's the key point: due to our recent spate of security concerns, the Department has decided sports day is to be relocated to the school grounds. We are also making the executive decision to exclude voluntaras, medicalos, and completas from partaking in the day.”
“That's going to disappoint a lot of those children,” Miss Bassel noted.
Mister Titus shrugged. “The day is ultimately not for them.”
“I have to agree. Seems the Department is coming around to the idea that we've been forgetting what it means to be a correctional community.” Mr Dax said with a hint of a smile.
“I happen to think Northrock has been much improved by diversifying our rejuve population.” Timothy's counter-point raised a few eyebrows, but he continued, “I'll not argue we've had good reason for concern this past year, but escape attempts and security breaches are a fact of life here! Let's not condemn everyone for the actions of one boy! Separation will only foster greater resentment!”
“He's not wrong!” Kal chimed in. “More to the point I don't like how this has been decided without any kind of consultation. Who is this 'we' making the executive decision?”
From the way Dax shifted it was clear he felt the mood at the table was turning against him, but Mister Titus moved swiftly to end any further debate. “Our priority right now should be to determine what options we have to salvage the day. Events that rely heavily on off-site equipment will have to be cancelled and replaced with a fair alternative. The lake-based events are an obvious write-off, as is the 'land air and sea' relay race. Running events are easily relocated, with the exception of the cross-country race.”
Mr Dax helpfully changed the screen to show an overhead map of the school. “On that note, I wanted to propose we set up a temporary running track around the school. Like so. Hold on.” After a few fumbling seconds a red line appeared on the map, snaking between the various buildings of the school.
Timothy, still seething at the lack of resolution on the matter of participation, begrudgingly weighed in on the new topic. “We ought to keep your running track clear of the main playground. It's a good place for replacement events, after all. As for what we use it for, what are your thoughts on organising the Line Game as an event?” The medicalos couldn't help but smile as a few of the less hands-on staff were left puzzled by his comment. “It's a game penitatas have played on the multi-court for decades now. It's essentially tag with extra steps, but it's popular with the children and we could easily give it a competitive twist.”
“How does one score points in a game of tag, Mr Miller?” Mr Dax asked with a scoff.
“We'd have to make a core change to the rules. We form one team from each House and designate an attacker and defender. The defending house has one player on the line, and each time they out an opponent an additional member of their team is put on the line. This ensures the defenders are incentivised to out opponents as quickly and efficiently as possible.”
“How do we keep score? How do you decide who wins and loses?”
“Runs completed. Each attacking player who makes it through scores a point. That's all that we need – it'll be a quick event to run, especially if we don't force each team to play every other. It can be over and done in no time and the court can then be repurposed for another sport.”
“It's an interesting solution I'll give you that,” Mr Dax conceded with a slow nod. “How many players, then? Five a side? Six?”
“We could make six work.”
“Good. That's one event in the bag. Now, what about the rest?”
The meeting wound on. Plans were made, arrangements agreed upon, and the teaching body left with purpose. The Line Game was now Timothy's project to review and prep for; he was eager to put the idea to his Penny friends and see how they would react.

“Rilka!”
Shon's bark made both rejuves flinch. A raised voice first thing in the morning was something no penitatas wished to hear. Talek was safe in theory, but he was still gripped by apprehension as he watched his beloved Rilka flinch and turn towards their scowling parent. “Yes, dad?”
Shon lowered his voice now he had her attention. He was stood at the edge of their bathroom space, a clawed digit beckoning. “Come over here. What's that on the floor under the sink, Rilka?”
The cream-scaled girl lowered her gaze and flashed her teeth in a grimace. “It looks like toothpaste.”
“That's right. Toothpaste goes in your mouth, or in the sink. You don't dribble fat globs of it onto the floor and then walk away without wiping it up.”
“I didn't notice!” the lizard girl pleaded.
“Well I did, and I'm afraid I have to remind you to be more attentive. Come on.”
Talek felt no joy as his girlfriend and sister-in-punishment was forced to drop her pants and lean against the low, transparent dividing wall that separated the bathing space from the rest of the bedroom. It was a petty thing for Shon to spank her over, but that was part of life as a penitatas; you were expected to be perfect, and you lived knowing any mistake, past or present, could and likely would result in punishment. Rilka had gone a good while without any slip-ups, which made Talek suspect their father was being overly harsh just to keep up appearances. The older Karrian whipped off his belt, folded it over, and brought it down hard on Rilka's waiting backside. The harsh, leathery thwack of the belt was accompanied by sharp cries, yelps, and then a steady sobbing as the swift slaps reddened her pale backside. It turned out to be a mercifully brief punishment, eight fierce slaps dealt rapid-fire so as to eat into a little time as possible. She'd sulk at the breakfast table, and perhaps chafe a little on the morning walk, but both rejuves had endured far, far worse.
Liki, their mother had taken the opportunity to lay out some clothes for the day. Both children found waiting school house uniforms set out on the bed; white shirts with blue pullovers; orange shorts for Talek, an orange skirt for Rilka; blue ties and socks with an orange circle on which the house's totem animal, the sea fox, was represented. A similar badge was on the breast of the pullovers. The attire was feeling a little tight on them now they had both turned ten, and soon a new uniform would be required.
They walked to school with their neighbour, Tulu. Rilka allowed herself a smirk at the sight of the lizard girl clad in the red and silver of the Red Kestrels, the house run by Mister Titus. Aside from the colours and the badge, Tulu's outfit matched Rilka's with a single exception; Tulu had no tie. Talek guessed that was the cause of Rilka's smirk. He had learned of the welcome ceremony of the Red Kestrels from others: Mister Titus would call up his new members, punish them for being 'improperly dressed', and only then issue them with a house tie. The boy was glad Mr Hachi – Timothy – had not engaged in such a practice.
As per their custom, Talek and Rilka kept their eyes peeled for wildlife. It wasn't quite at the level of superstition yet, but it was always nice to spot their totem animal on a house day. They spied something small in the bushes, but not cleanly, and it was too small to be a fox. To the west a great eruption of birds rose up, spooked into flight by a predator. They were bobblers, tiny-bodied things with long V-shaped tails. Something larger rose with them; a mottled brown bird, sleek and sharp in form. It rocketed into the flock, which burst apart and reformed at its passing. The kestrel vanished behind a tree and did not emerge. A bobbler had run out of luck, most likely.
After the early morning routine of registration and a few minutes of admin it was time for the pupils to split up and head to their house meetings. A message on his console informed Talek he was to go to the music hall rather than the usual swimming pool, news he met with only minor disappointment; the impromptu swims after the meeting was always looked forward to. When the bell rang and the class divided up, Talek, Ki'reth and Isabelle walked together, discussing who might be running the house meetings now. If Isabelle knew she was doing a fine job of feigning naivety. To the horror of both Talek and Rilka, they found a familiar face waiting for them outside the music room – their father.
“What are you doing here?” Talek asked in a tone that earned him a raised eyebrow. He shrunk away from the parental glare, which Shon accepted as an apology.
“The school asked for a volunteer to help run your little house meeting. Go on inside. That applies to all of you! Inside!” he added in a raised tone, shepherding the Sea Foxes in and hurrying them into a neat little rectangle; shortest children to the front, tallest to the back.
A minute or so after everyone was in place, Timothy Miller arrived. The medicalos wore an eager grin on his snout as he fell into line beside Shon, pausing only to unfurl a portable stool that ensured he had a bit of extra height over his charges. “Hello, everyone! On the off chance some of you don't know me yet, I am Timothy Miller. You probably know that name.” The comment was prompted by the soft whispering from one of the younger penitatas. Though quite new, his survival instincts made him fall silent.
Timothy continued, “up until recently I went by another name: Hal Hachi. Given my past experience, I have been invited to take up the role of assistant in house matters. At any other time I am plain old Timothy, a medicalos like any other; but today, in other house activities, I am Mr Miller. All clear?”
“Yes, Mr Miller!” the gathered rejuves chorused.
“Splendid!”
Even if the face and voice had changed, there was still the familiar 'grandfatherly' tones of Mr Hachi present in Timothy's address. He spoke of declining behaviour and a rise in punishments, but not in a scolding fashion; instead, he seemed sympathetic, reminding them all that it was better to reach out for aid than suffer in silence and earn themselves more swats that was necessary.
“Now let's move on to sports day. The faculty wish to announce two changes this year: first, all events will be held on school grounds, and second, it will be a penitatas only event. Non-correctional rejuves will be asked to stay home that day.”
The announcement met with mixed emotions. Isabelle was certainly disappointed, and raised her hand immediately while others murmured around her. “Mr Miller, why are we being excluded?”
“I'll have to get back to you on that. For now, I'm just the messenger.” Isabelle was clearly not satisfied with the answer, but she accepted it nonetheless. “Mr Dafron is going to write a list of events on the board. Come over and have a think about what you'd like to partake in. Ki'reth, Lusu, Rilka, Talek, would you all come over here, please?”
The four startled at hearing their names. While others were excited to crowd around Shon and see what games were up for grabs, the beckoned blanched at what fate Mr Miller might have in store. Despite their apprehension he continued to smile, and kept his tone warm. “I have a special event in mind for you four. We're going to be hosting a Line Game tournament on sports day, and I'd like you four to be on the team representing the Sea Foxes.”
All fear bled away in an instant. “Really?” Talek laughed aloud at the idea. “That's awesome!”
Ki'reth was more hesitant. “Are we competing against each other?”
“No no, we're tweaking the rules a bit, making it more team orientated. I'll go over all the details when we've got the team settled on, but we need two more to make up the numbers. Ideally some younger players to even everything out. That's assuming you want to be our Line Game team?”
“Of course we do!” Talek answered for them before turning to his friends. They all smiled and nodded.
Timothy clapped his claws in excitement. “Excellent!”

The Red Kestrels filed into the sports hall and lined up along a bold yellow line painted in front of a folded climbing frame, its bright blue metalwork vibrating almost imperceptibly with the movements of the children. Stood in the middle of the rimball court that dominated the room was the imposing figure of Mister Titus, watching with a trademark sneer upon his white-furred visage. He had set a pommel horse on the court next to him for reasons not all present understood, though it would become apparent in short order.
“Kestrels, attend me!” The barked order brought silence to the room. The Roferian began to walk before the line of rejuves at a languid pace, savouring the apprehension he drew from them. He stopped before a new girl, his smile widening a fraction. “Miss Tulu. Step forward.”
With only a brief pause to glance at Malth and Jay, Tulu obeyed. She took three steps out of the line, then a few more, and finally when the teacher's smirk hardened into a scowl did she fall in close before him. He beckoned her to follow him with a lazily curled finger and strolled on, this time stopping at the far end of the row. “Miss Francine.”
The tiny white fox slung out of the line of uniformed children. Unlike everyone else present she was nude, as she had been since the day she was made a penitatas. “Did you forget something this morning, Miss Francine?” Mister Titus asked. A few children risked a giggle at the pointed question, and the little girl shrunk before their mockery. Tulu didn't dare smile; she was far too close to danger to risk mirth.
With a squeak of shoe leather on the well polished floor, Mister Titus rounded on her. “You appear to be out of uniform, Miss Tulu.”
The girl glanced down at herself as if she expected her clothing to have vanished. Yet to her own mild surprise the uniform remained; the same red and silver worn by all the other children, bar Francine, and the style of her dress matched the dresses worn by every other female penitatas present. “Where is your tie, Miss Tulu?” Mister Titus growled, his pleasantries boiling away with terrible swiftness.
She clutched at her neck. “I wasn't given one!”
“No excuse!” He thrust a finger towards the pommel horse. “Those who do not come to a house meeting in proper uniform will pay the price! March, girl!”
A pathetic whine slipped from Tulu's gritted teeth at the injustice of this treatment. Had her parents done this deliberately? She recalled Rilka's smirk on the way to school, and realised now that bitch had known this was going to happen! All of these thoughts brought no comfort as she stood before the pommel horse. Mister Titus yanked her underwear down and hoisted her up, resting her between the plastic handles and lifting her tail to ensure all present had a clear view of what was to come.
The whip-like Mother's Claw sang through the air with an almost musical tone before snapping against her buttock. The strike was a pin-point spark of agony that burned clean through the soft, jiggling fat of her cheek and bored to the bone, as though a fire ant had just taken a bite of her. Tulu arched and cried out, a long, desperate howl of misery. When she paused her wail to catch her breath the other cheek received a snapping strike, this time at an angle that bit along the inner crease. The small, volcanic welt it left would rub and chafe as she walked, but for now it was the initial torment that set her shrieking. Six times that damnable Claw stung her. Six times she was gifted short, yet deeply angonising stripes across her soft, malleable scales. Oh how she wished Karrian hide was thick and durable, like that of a Drakonian!
Once punished, Tulu was lifted down and ordered to stand facing the others with her skirt raised, showing off her vulval slit for all to see. Francine, angry tears streaking her face, was next to face the Mother's Claw. She received six bites of her own, including one that rode high and caught across her puckered anus. The shriek she let out at that blow made Tulu, and several other rejuves flinch.
Once both girls were done, Mister Titus calmly talked over their sobbing and bawling about house matters. His first concern was that of discipline: “there has been a marked rise in arguments, fighting, even bullying amongst the pupils of this school. I find this utterly unacceptable. Moreover, your average academic performance has declined. Why has this happened? I expect an explanation.”
Tulu noted one of the boys, a Karrian about a year older than her, began to wilt under the onslaught. “The advanced mathematics modules are a lot harder than I thought.”
“Are you suggesting the school has not offered you any support, Master Tormal?”
“I... I don't know.”
A fiery flicker crossed the Roferian's furred snout. “You don't know because you didn't ask! If you wish to suffer, Master Tormal, then we are more than happy to oblige you, but for the sake of your future I would advise you not to waste the academic opportunities we provide. If you present as a lazy, stupid, or disruptive child then you will only earn yourself many more years of misery!”
In the corner of her eye, Tulu caught the sight of another boy, six years old like her. His head was bowed and eyes scrunched shut. Mister Titus saw him too. “Master Weir, please step forward.” His tone had lost its earlier ferocity.
The unhappy Penny joined the trio. Mister Titus turned the boy to face the line of Red Kestrels, but unlike Tulu and Francine he kept his decency. “In that spirit, we should acknowledge that Master Weir returns to us for another cycle of hard time. Is there anything you wish to say?”
The boy's breath shuddered as he tried to speak. “I thought... I really hoped I'd get parole...”
Mister Titus shook his head. “That was an unlikely outcome, Master Weir. But I single you out not to admonish, but to hold you aloft. Master Weir's efforts these past two years have been commendable; his conduct was excellent, his academic performance more than satisfactory, and he has displayed a genuine desire to reform. In my opinion, what let you down, Master Weir, was that this change of attitude came too late. Had you been so driven to prove yourself better from the beginning I believe you would be a soft timer now.” The teacher moved into the boy's field of vision and knelt down to address him directly. “Do not let your conduct slip now. Continue as you have been, a model pupil, and you will receive the parole you crave.”
“I... I'll try, Mister Titus.”
A soft purr slipped from the teacher's lips as he stood upright once more. “Red Kestrels do not try, Master Weir. Red Kestrels succeed!” Back to the line, please. I think it's time I dealt with these two reprobates.”
Both Tulu and Francine let out frightened little whimpers as they became the focus of events once more. Francine was first. Tulu watched through tear-blurred eyes as Mister Titus plucked a length of red fabric from his pocket and wove it around Francine's neck. A tie, she realised. “You will both attend house events wearing your tie from now on. Failure to do so will be punished in the fashion demonstrated. If you wear nothing else, wear the tie!”
Then Mister Titus crossed to Tulu. His predatory grin widened as he readied Tulu's tie for fastening.   He tapped her foot with his own. “Remove the panties.” Frightened as to why, she wriggled her feet free of the undergarment. Mister Titus kicked them away. “You can retrieve them from my office at the end of  the day.”
The tie was fixed in place at last, and Tulu was allowed to lower her skirt. “Kestrels, attend! Two more hatchlings join you in your little nest!”
In a rather haphazard fashion, the line of rejuves straightened up, raised their right paws, and began to sing. The ones who started late skipped ahead a little, until all voices were raised in something, if not harmonious, then at least in sync:
“Red Kestrels are brave and true
In all we say and all we do!
If this promise proves untrue
Then spank our bottoms black and blue!”
Then Malth began to clap. Jay joined him a moment after, then others. Soon the whole line was clapping, and even the odd whoop rose up. Mister Titus gave each girl a gentle nudge and invited them to rejoin their fellows. He then pocketed the discarded panties.
“There are going to be some changes concerning sports day this year...” Mister Titus explained the new rules as Tulu sought the comfort of her friends. Malth offered her a whispered welcome that meant more than she'd expected. “Before we discuss who will be participating in each event, there is one other matter of great importance.”
The words drew focus back to the teacher, who in turn was looking towards the doors to the sports hall. Tulu felt a wave of dizzy disgust sweep through her at the sight of the young boy who entered, escorted by his new parents. Hasi. The lizard boy was naked, his burnt-brown scales on full display for all to see. He walked with his tail dragging behind like a dead weight, the rigidity of the limb hinting at a sensitivity born of an early morning swatting.
“Kestrels, for those unaware, this is Master Hasi. Come over here, young man! Don't be shy!” The teacher's tone was downright jovial, which caused those more familiar with Mister Titus to begin whispering. Tulu was a little slower on the uptake, but judging by how the boy began to cry before Mister Titus so much as touched him he had to know why he was present.
“My dear hatchlings, let me introduce you all to Master Hasi, a serpent in the nest. Master Hasi assaulted and violated one of our own. Penitatas are all guilty of crimes, but the task of punishing them falls exclusively to the sanctioned. Master Hasi decided he would take the law into his own hands. Now, as recompense, we shall return the favour.”
Hasi was lifted over the pommel horse by his mother. His father stood on the opposite side and held him firmly in place, keeping the boy's tail raised high. “Please!” he yelped. The sound of his voice made Tulu want to vomit.
Mister Titus gave no warning. He stood back from the boy, taking advantage of having parental assistance to maximise the swing of the Mother's Claw. Even a few extra inches distance allowed him transform an already cruel instrument to an utterly evil device of torture; the swing, more rapid than what Tulu or Francine had endured, had a narrow point of impact, a mere pin-prick as opposed to the short, sharp slice the girls endured. The Claw cracked, and Hasi shrieked, fighting the parental restraint.
Again the claw cracked, striking the boy's left cheek. A tiny dimple, like a bee sting, formed on the orange-brown scale of his rear. Crack! Another strike, millimetres to the left. Crack! Now a trio of tiny bites formed a triangle of pain on his buttock. Hasi shrieked and bawled, begging for mercy. There was none to be found. Mister Titus put a cluster of ten burning dots on each cheek before turning to his Red Kestrels. “If you are satisfied this abuser has suffered enough, raise your claw.”
A few did. More than Tulu expected. Far more than she'd have wanted. Mister Titus considered the count and then resumed.
The whip whistled and found the base of the boy's tail. It sliced a welt a thumb's width wide on the diagonal, a blow that drew a new kind of scream from Hasi's maw. Mister Titus clearly enjoyed the sound for he lay a matching slash across it, drawing a tiny cross on the boy's meaty limb. He glanced sidelong at his charges, not even bothering to consider two-thirds of the group's opinions on whether Hasi should be given mercy. Tulu's claws were folded tight across her chest; as far as she was concerned he hadn't suffered nearly enough.
Snap! Crack! Snap! Crack! The boy's tail was stitched with tiny lines of Hell, stitching over scale that had clearly felt a strap not an hour before. Hasi's wails became ever more panicked and frantic, his thrashing redoubled, and his pleading was barely coherent. “Stop! 'm gonna' die!”
“Nonsense!” the Roferian laughed at his melodramatic shriek. “You can endure so much more!”
And he should! Tulu screamed inside her head. She wanted worse, so much worse!
She got it. With a flourish, Mister Titus flicked the Claw low. Every single boy flinched in unison, rasping through grit teeth as the tip sliced across Hasi's dangling sac. The boy's hips bucked hard against the pommel horse, his wailing stopping for a brief moment as his mind failed to comprehend the agony of that testicular torture. A second smack to the opposite ball jump-started him back to life, screaming himself hoarse at this unprecedented punishment.
Tulu became aware that she was now one of the few who weren't voting for mercy. But why should she? He'd shown her none! Despite that, Mister Titus considered the will of the crowd and relented. “I believe we are satisfied.”
Hasi was carried away by his father, utterly broken by the ordeal. Mister Titus returned his focus to sports day. Once activities were doled out – Tulu and Malth both being assigned to the Line Game team – the house meeting broke up and the rejuves were sent on their way. All except Tulu, who was ordered to stay behind.
“Master Hasi will not be joining the school for some time,” he said as the others filed away.
“Good.”
“Is your desire for revenge satisfied now?”
Tulu flashed her fangs. “Not even close!”
Mister Titus leaned in, and the flare of anger the question had welled up in her died instantly, replaced by mortal terror. “Would you like to know how it feels to receive the Claw across your clitoris?” The girl clenched her legs and threw her claws over her crotch. “Then I suggest you become satisfied with today's display. The matter is now out of your hands, and should you take any action against that boy, even so much as a cruel word thrown his way, you will suffer for it. You can be assured that I was extremely disappointed when you were not assigned to my classroom, and I will gleefully take any opportunity I can to make you suffer for your gross betrayal of this community. You will be an exemplary Red Kestrel, or you will be the sorriest little girl this town has ever known. Do we understand one another?”
“Y-yessir!” Tulu felt tears pour forth. Once more, the innate injustice of Northrock loomed large; even as the victim, she was treated worse than the perpetrator.
A look of disgust formed on the Roferian's snout. “I find your self pity contemptuous. The next time we cross paths you had best display proper contrition, or I shall apply a most inventive means to compel it. Get out.”
Tulu found Malth and Jay waiting for her, along with Francine. The presence of the fox was surprising, but explained by Malth. “Mister Titus assigned me to keep an eye on her today. After what just happened she's not so keen to keep her distance now.”
“You're in Malth's class?” Tulu asked. The brow-beaten fox gave a sullen nod. “That must suck.”
“Better than being at home,” Francine whined as the rejuves moved on.
Francine was at Malth's side once more when lunchtime rolled around. Given their history, Tulu was unsure if she wanted the little fox at their table, but the memory of Mister Titus' threat loomed in her memory so she kept her tongue still. She'd barely sat down before another fox arrived at the table. “Hey! I didn't know you'd started school!”
Francine cast a weary gaze towards her older sister. “First day.”
“Want me to sit with you? I'm sure-”
“No!” the barked response caught Isabelle by surprise.
“Oh. Well. I'm always around if you change your mind.” The older Aspatrian backed away, awkard and adrift, before turning and hurrying off to her usual social group.
Penelope let out a snort. “That was harsh!”
“I'm sick of her treating me like some kind of pet!” Francine poured her frustration into stabbing the fish on her plate.
“Complicated relationship?” Malth asked.
Francine let her fork clatter onto the plate. “She hates me. But she feels bad about hating me so she tries to 'make right'.”
Once more the Roferian girl offered her thoughts. “You want some independence.”
“I want out of this fucking town!” The curse made the entire table go wide-eyed.
“Hey! Easy on the cursing or you'll be sitting on blisters!” Malth urged. Francine snarled at the chastisement, but held her tongue and got to eating.
Perhaps eager to shift the mood, Penelope turned her focus to other matters. “Oh, big news for sports day! I'm guessing you know the Line Game is now 'official', right?”
“Yeah, Malth and I are on the team,” Tulu said.
“No way! I'm on our team!” Penelope laughed at her friend's revelation. “I hope you don't think I'm going to go easy on you!”
“Who else is playing for the Honeybees?” Malth asked.
Penelope snorted. “Oh, looking for insider intel, are we?”
“Hardly. Kost is obviously playing for you. Bubbles too, maybe? Sesh plays quite a lot, and Penla when she's not painting.”
“There's a spy in our camp!” Sa'shel cried to the laughter of her friends. Even Francine allowed herself a fleeting smirk, though she hardened her features when she caught Tulu looking. “Well come on, who's flying the red and silver?”
Malth tapped his chest, then pointed to Tulu and Francine. The latter caught the Honeybees girls by surprise. “Really?”
“I guess they're balancing out the teams,” the little fox mumbled.
“Well I for one can't wait to see how this goes!” Penelope rose from her seat. “Got to run, team practice! Later!”
“So it begins,” Malth chuckled, and then set about cleaning his own plate.

For the fans of the Line Game, the coming sports day was a topic fervently discussed and much anticipated. They played as always, but there were clear shifts in their focus; Kost and Ki'reth were rivals as always, but Talek noted how Rilka and Lusu were all but ignoring their fellow Sea Foxes now whenever possible. Similar favouritism came up elsewhere, to the point where their referee, Sa'shel, threatened to kick people out of the game if they continued to “not play fair”.
In between their friendly games, arrangements were made for team practices. The Sea Foxes would consist of Talek, Ki'reth, Rilka, and Lusu, supported by a younger boy, Xaver, and a girl, Li. The new rules required differing strategies; the defending team started with a single player on the line, while the attackers had all six trying to pass them. Each player across scored one point, each player captured was out of play and allowed the defender to bring a new player onto the line. Once all attackers were captured a “sudden death” six-vs-six round was played, and then the roles would swap.
Mr Miller had chosen his team well. Against the “Reserve” Team, Talek and his friends dominated. Starting with Ki'reth, they shut them all down on the fourth pass and let only one through in the sudden death. On the attack they were slippery to the point of drawing audible grunts of frustration. A few rounds of play revealed Li to be the weak link in the team, and after some discussion she was swapped with a reserve boy, Andler. Li was upset, but Timothy did his best to console her and promised she'd find a fun alternative event to be part of. A team spirit built, and in the lunchtimes that followed the reserve players dominated the Line Game, playing to the new rules as if seeking to win a last minute placement.
Sports day itself was dull and overcast, yet with little wind to spoil things. The Sea Foxes arrived in blue and orange tracksuits, with blue shirts and orange shorts beneath. They filed onto the familiar playground space to find parents and teachers waiting. Nearby, an awning had been erected to shelter a portable radio set. Excitement over the Line Game had grown to such a point that Radio Northrock saw fit to cover the events of the day.
Stripping off their tracksuits, the Sea Foxes were first onto the field. The Honeybees were forming up on the Line to face them: Kost, Bubbles, and Penelope were joined by three penitatas Talek didn't know. The six talked amongst themselves for a while before most departed, leaving Kost alone. The Kyyreni boy danced back and forth to warm himself up, grinning eagerly at the prospect of taking on his friends.
“Sea Foxes, ready up!” Timothy Miller called out from his umpire seat – a hoverchair floating safely above proceedings. “Remember, one point scored for each player across! Ready? Set? Go!”
All six Sea Foxes darted forward, but Kost only had eyes for Ki'reth. He cut along the line, letting Xaver, Andler, and Rilka go unchallenged. He made a brief, limp attempt to grab Lusu before pivoting to his true prey – the Kyyreni lunged as Ki'reth drew near, but with a speed and grace honed over many games the Aspatrian jinked low and let Kost's grasping claw bounce off his shoulder. As usual, Ki'reth was nude; had he been wearing a shirt, Kost might have found better purchase. “Six scored!” Miller boomed, and the Sea Fox team erupted into cheers of victory, while Penelope loudly scolded Kost for giving up easier marks.
Kost learned his lesson on the second pass. Lusu was snagged and brought to a halt, sending her off and bringing Penelope into play. This time, Kost got his prize – Ki'reth was shouldered out of bounds while Penelope took Andler out with a diving catch to his ankle. The boy hit the ground hard and scuffed his knees, leaving all present fearful of what that might entail. Shon, present to assist once more, checked on the boy and escorted him off. It seemed no punishment or penalty was forthcoming, so play resumed. Talek, Rilka, and Xaver had to face a wall of four Honeybees. Kost and Penny ganged up on Talek, shutting down his avenues of escape. Rilka was snagged, but slipped free, being the only one to make it; Xaver hesitated too long, and by the time he committed the pressure drove him just out of bounds.
Then came the sudden death. Six versus six. Naturally, Kost wanted Ki'reth again. “I'll open a hole for you,” Ki'reth said to Talek with eyes fixed on his dearest friend. “I'll bait him over to the line and you go for it. At least one of us will get through.”
On Timothy's shout, the pair went for it. Penelope was anchoring Kost's inner flank, but seeing Andler push ahead the Roferian girl jinked in for a tackle that landed hard and took the lad out of the running. That gave Talek the window to surge free and clear. He heard a bark of frustration from the right, suggesting Lusu had been caught, and there was a thud of someone hitting the ground. He didn't look – he had to focus on Kost.
Ki'reth baited him over to the line, and Kost dove. Talek turned and watched as Ki'reth weaved left, took Kost's impact, and began to stumble. His right foot hit the ground, still in bounds, but then he turned and planted his left toes down, in play, heel up over the line. His tail and limbs splayed, Talek swerved hard and reached for him. Fingers touched, giving the fox just enough purchase to pivot further. He swirled around, twisted in the air, and began to run. Talek went with him, both boys reaching the far line just as their pursuers lunged in for last minute tackles. Both ended up kissing hard-top, but the tackles were declared illegal by Miller. Kost was furiously shouting at Shon, pointing to the line and insisting Ki'reth was out. It took the boy a few seconds to realise he was yelling at an adult, a Penny Parent no less, who stood with folded arms and an expression worn by someone who intended to settle the matter with a paddle. “I guess he was in,” Kost conceded.
“I thought so,” Shon answered with a nod. “All settled?”
The score was announced. Seventeen points. They'd run the calculations – a perfect defence would concede just eight points, and in practice the best they'd accomplished was fifteen. It was a fine start to the day!
Swapping roles, the Sea Foxes started strong. Ki'reth shut down Bubbles immediately, bringing Talek into play. He failed to land a tackle, but two passes later the Honeybees were out. In Sudden Death they had a disappointing performance, letting three slip through and conceding a total of fourteen points. The Honeybees were playing for keeps.
Worked up and hearts pounding, the two teams withdrew to the side and allowed the Red Kestrels and Oliphants their turn. After the incidents on the field, Talek worried things might have soured between his friends, but as he turned to watch the Honeybees approach he saw signs of camaraderie; the Roferian girl, Penelope stopped to wish her Red Kestrel friends luck in their match, while Kost and Bubbles joined the Sea Foxes. Kost embraced Ki'reth, any hatred forgotten. “You really want to be spanked!” Ki'reth laughed as the pair separated.
“You know me, I'm competitive!”
“Bloody stupid more like!”
As focused turned to the game the two teams were initially positive. The Red Kestrels started strong and had a near perfect defence, giving up only eleven points. On the attack, they were nigh unstoppable, matching their Sea Fox rivals play for play. A soft hiss escaped from Rilka's lips as Tulu and her friends celebrated their excellent performance. “Looks like they're playing for keeps.”

As the Oliphants cleared the field, the Honeybees stepped up to replace them. Tulu, having made herself team captain quite by accident, waved her players into a huddle. “Okay, just like before! We know Kost and Penelope are strong, so let them be and focus on the weak links! They favour risking the flanks over driving up the middle, but you can bet Kost will come straight at you if he thinks he can shoulder past a smaller player.”
“So we keep our small defenders close to the middle and bait the trap!” Malth eagerly stated, an idea that was met with nods of approval.
“Alright, let's go!” the Red Kestrels broke, sending their first player out. Tulu watched with eager anticipation as the Honeybees ran, Kost and Penelope powering straight for the twelve-year-old Karrian defender as if to goad him into trying. It didn't work; the Red Kestrel went for an easier take, and built momentum. Soon enough they had all six players on the line with only Kost left to capture. A shame he hadn't been tagged in the previous round, but no matter. Tulu and Malth pincered the boy as he barrelled straight through the middle of their lines, her low tackle stumbling the Kyyreni boy and bleeding just enough of his momentum that Malth was able to land a high hit and topple him. As all parties stood up and dusted themselves off, Tulu reflected on how rough and forceful the game had become – almost all tackles were called by players pushed out of bounds or brought to ground, with only a few called out due to being held. She had expected such rough play to be forbidden, yet even when knees and elbows were scuffed and children left the field sniffling there was no consequence. They let slip two on the sudden death; Kost's bull-charge was halted at the price of allowing Bubbles to slip through the window it created, while Penelope danced around every effort to grasp her. Tulu had to wonder if the Roferian's extra-sensory abilities somehow let her know what her opponent planned ahead of time.
This time it was Penelope who led the defence. The Red Kestrels charged, and it seemed to Tulu that the focus was on Francine this time. That proved to be a clever bait-and-switch; as Tulu's toes touched the central line of the court, Penelope sprang. A furred claw caught Tulu's ankle and sent her slamming into the ground. More scrapped knees and elbows.
“You okay?” Penelope offered a claw to help her friend off the floor.
“Fine.”
The Roferian's eyes widened. “No you're not!” A thrust digit drew Tulu's focus to her stinging forearm. Some of her scale had peeled, and a thin weep of blood trickled out. Shon was there immediately, and Penelope flew at once into a stammering apology that he paid no heed to. He took Tulu's arm and waved a dermal regenerator over the scrape.
“There we are, good as new!” the parent grinned, letting Tulu inspect the wound after he'd wiped it with a tissue. The scale was still scuffed, but the wound was closed. Tulu fought the urge to scratch it, letting her fingers claw the air instead. “Come on, play on!”
With the tone set, the Honeybees continued their relentless, flawless defence. As more and more Red Kestrels joined her on the sideline, Tulu began to formulate a new strategy. “I think we're holding back too much. We should go hard, maximum aggression! Smash through them, trample right over them, brute force through and don't stop for anything! We don't need to wear kid gloves today!”
The others nodded in agreement. They'd all seen first hand this wasn't the Line Game played at lunch; they could make each other bleed. With that in mind, the last charge of the Red Kestrels was brutal – their oldest boys hit the line like a hammer, driving clean through and refusing to acknowledge the claws grasping at their shirts. Nobody else made it, but it was Kost and Francine who proved the limits of what the parents and staff would tolerate. The little girl wove and jinked around the Kyyreni boy, who span like a top trying to keep pace. Just when she seemed free and clear he lunged, caught her by the tail, and yanked her to ground.
Francine howled. Hovering above, Timothy Miller blew a whistle and shouted a ruling of illegal tackle, and just as Kost got to his feet he found Shon bearing down. Kost's pants were immediately down around his ankles and his rear was subject to a fierce barrage of blows from the Fox's Strap, applying studded side a dozen times in rapid succession to get him shrieking before ordering him to rejoin his increasingly timid teammates. Francine, meanwhile, was hastily addressed by the school nurse, who gently inspected her tail. She was led away, clearly having suffered something that required more than a hand-held lesion-fixer to tend to.
Due to Kost's actions, Francine was awarded a point. The final score of the game was 11-11. It now fell to the Sea Foxes and Oliphants to take advantage of this relatively lacklustre performance.
“We're in the lead now, right?” Malth asked as the Oliphants went on the attack.
“For now,” Tulu replied. “we're ahead by three points, but it's still close.”
The Sea Fox defence proved sloppy. They bled points badly, conceding twelve by the sudden death. That put them on twenty-three, still way behind and unlikely to-
“Oh!” the cry emerged from multiple lips at once. The Sea Foxes had played for a gambit, seeming to focus on the oldest Oliphant and then pivoting to easier prey. As Rilka turned sharply and tried to spring on her mark she'd tripped, and in her fall had clawed Lusu. This in turn put her off and made a gap, one that Talek had hastily tried to close but to no avail; even with Kost's penalty punishment, the Oliphants were willing to risk simply ploughing on. Talek's capture refused to accept the result and tore out of his grip. Only Ki'reth and Xaver managed captures. The Oliphants had secured a truly unprecedented four points in sudden death, putting them a single point behind the Red Kestrels!
Malth squirmed as he watched the Sea Fox offensive begin. “This is bad. This is really, really bad! I don't want to lose this!”
Tulu felt her own guts churn. She was staring down fifteen swats with the Mother's Claw if they won the competition, plus an extra fifteen for every place below that. She'd seen first hand what that level of punishment had done to Hasi, and had absolutely no desire to endure it herself! For all the fun and excitement the Line Game tournament had been early on, now it was deadly serious. Yet as Tulu's focus returned to the game she felt a spring of hope; the Sea Fox attack had been largely toothless, with the only upset being Talek's lucky break in the third round. Sudden death loomed, and it was death indeed for the Sea Foxes. Even their star player, Ki'reth couldn't break the wall of grey and green that shut them down at every turn. Andler alone made it to score. “That's ten!” Tulu shrieked. Her fellow Red Kestrels let out their own eager cries. “We're ahead! We're a point ahead!”

There was no joy to be found as the Sea Foxes regrouped. Bitterness and frustration loomed large over all of them. “What the hell went wrong?” Talek barked out. “We were crushing it in the first round!”
“They were pulling their punches in the first round!” Lusu whined back.
Ki'reth nodded. “The Honeybees treated it like playground fun the first go out. Now everyone's remembered that they're playing to save their backsides.”
“How close is it?” Rilka asked.
“We're only a point behind the Red Kestrels. If the Honeybees can sack the Oliphants that'll give us breathing room. Then we just need to power ahead!”
All eyes turned to the playing field. Francine had rejoined her team, and judging by their frightened expressions the Red Kestrels were engaged in the same arithmetic of potential suffering they were; a lot was riding on the outcome of this game.
From both sides of the court a groan rose up. The Oliphants scored a perfect six on their first play. The slip steeled the resolve of the Honeybees, who locked the field down in spectacular fashion afterwards. Yet that early fumble was devastating; even with a near perfect sudden death round, where only a single Oliphant slipped through, giving up six points in the first play shot the Oliphants to the top of the scoreboard. “Forty-two.” Talek sighed. His own licks would be relatively light compared to some, even getting away unscathed if he won, but he was still facing the prospect of fifteen slaps with a studded tail strap if they came in fourth.
Both sidelined teams held their breath and watched the Honeybees run the court. Time and again Kost slipped captures, recovering balance when tripped or ripping clear of clutching claws. At one point there was an audible shredding sound as he burst the seams of his shirt-sleeve to escape and score one last point for his team. Through his sheer determination alone, the Honeybees clawed their way to thirteen points going into sudden death. Bubbles and Penelope landed two more. Fifteen. A fine performance, but nowhere near enough. The best the Honeybees could manage now was second. Fifteen points in the first round would have seen them leave the pitch punching the air and whooping like champions. Now they slunk away with tears in their eyes.

The Sea Foxes took the role of defenders, with Rilka starting. The plan had been solid; focus down the weak players first. But Rilka's furious gaze was fixed on Tulu, and Talek felt sick with dread at that. “Please, stick to the plan!” he begged in a whisper as Timothy called for play to begin. Talek watched in horror as Red Kestrels ran across unchallenged, all the while Rilka honed in on Tulu... and charged. A fierce shoulder barge sent the girl staggering out of bounds – a tackle, and a legal one at that, but it had been a close thing. That brought Lusu into play, but this time Rilka was wrong-footed trying to shove Francine out of bounds. The remaining Sea Foxes grimaced at seeing four Red Kestrels forming up to go again for round three. “Ki'reth, you go in.”
“You sure?” the fox asked.
Talek nodded. “We need our best foot forward.”
It was a good call. Ki'reth managed to bring down Malth with a swift, decisive tackle that lifted the smaller boy off his feet and left him sprawling on his back. Rilka and Lusu both tried and failed to lock down their marks, only for Ki'reth to surge in for an assist. Rilka's fumbling had stalled the older Red Kestrel long enough that he wasn't quite safe when the Aspatrian shot in like a missile, smashing his legs out. The pair were left in a crumpled heap, but after some deliberation it was declared a legal, if borderline tackle. Ki'reth was advised not to try his luck like that again.
Two down, two to go. Talek trotted out onto the field and chose Francine as his target. Surely the little fox couldn't be that hard to stop? He had Rilka to help him, both shuffling about to shepherd the little fox to the edge of the field where they had more options. She darted forward, body low, tail straight out behind her for balance – baiting a foul, Talek realised. He stepped back and moved in front of her path while Rilka lagged just far enough behind to present an opening, but Francine refused to take the bait. She was going to run the edge of the court, much as Ki'reth had done in the first round. Talek went in for the shove and the girl grabbed back, swinging on his shirt to spin clear. Talek grabbed her arms, planted his feet, and swung hard to the left, tossing her clear of the line.
“Out of bounds!” Shon declared, and Talek let out a whoop of triumph before turning to see his father's expression. “Sorry, Talek, but your foot was over the line when you dragged her out. That's not a legal tackle.”
“No!” Now it was Francine's turn to snigger. The little brat rubbed her paws together with glee as she scurried off back to her team.
“Rules are rules, Talek. We're cutting you all some slack as it is, but I won't play favourites. You win fair, or you don't win at all. Go on, I believe in you.”
Alone, Francine had little hope of beating six. Sudden death loomed large, and all Talek could think about was vengeance; this time he was going to shut that little fox down! He followed Francine as she came in, once again steering for the edge of the field. “Let her grab me!” he hissed as she closed the distance. Rather than going for a shove, he bent low with arm out, intending to hit her in the gut and hoist her off her feet. But to his shock, Francine dove through his grab. He turned in shock as the girl rolled and sprang up with impossible speed, and though he went charging after her the move had him completely off-balance. She made it by the skin of her teeth. Tulu was already there, having wrong-footed Rilka, while Malth had stumbled across the line with Lusu so hot on his heels the pair both ended up slamming into a watching parent.
The final score was yet another fifteen. The announcement was met with howls of triumph from the Red Kestrels, having sniped the Oliphants by a single point with a final score of forty-three. To win, the Sea Foxes would need a truly spectacular performance – at least a seventeen. But they'd done it once, both teams had, and so with grim resolve the Sea Foxes readied up to make their final play.
Tulu was put on the line to begin, and that gave the Sea Foxes hope. Talek was free and clear with ease; Ki'reth likewise went utterly unchallenged. Tulu was honing in on Andler, who was being driven to the edge of play. The boy was in trouble, and would surely have been pushed out of bounds where it not for Rilka. In a bold, reckless move, she barged in between Tulu and her prey, buying time and space for Adler to run clear. Rilka slipped from Tulu's grasp, only to be re-grabbed and dragged sideways. The resulting tussle was broken up by a bark from Timothy, followed swiftly by harsh threats of spanking from Shon. Timothy ruled from on high that Rilka had been brought to a halt, and was therefore out.
Just like that, the dream died. With no hope of a six there seemed no path forward. Even a lucky escape by Talek in round two did little to rekindle hope in the Sea Foxes. When it came to the final run, the sudden death, Tulu's rivalry with Rilka resumed and took the cream-scaled girl out of the running. Andler made it once again, as did Ki'reth. Talek almost did; he weaved through the wall of red and silver before digging deep, pushing his muscles as hard as he could into one last charge. Then something caught his tail and made him stagger, and before he could right himself, Francine latched onto his leg. He ran on regardless, dragging the dead weight with him, but he couldn't run with a four year old latched on him like a ball and chain. Soon older hands had him, and it was over. Thirteen points.

Timothy Miller wasted no time in declaring the results. Talek hadn't even left the court before he heard the young man's voice cry out. “We have a tie! With forty points each, third place goes to the Honeybees and Sea Foxes!”
Nobody needed to hear the rest, though Timothy called the scores regardless. The Oliphants seemed content with second place, especially as Mr Kal hurried over to offer them all warm and heartfelt congratulations. Mister Titus stalked across the playground towards his little charges, who jumped about in celebratory glee at their accomplishments. He offered them a muted, but seemingly heartfelt word of congratulations.
Timothy's hoverchair eased down to ground level. The boy stood up, straightened his shirt, and joined his Sea Foxes. “You all did wonderfully!”
“We sucked!” Talek barked back, snout creasing at the knowledge he'd doubled his day's punishment.
“No, don't think like that! I am proud of each and every one of you for your efforts today! I know earning those extra swats is awful, but don't you dare talk down to yourself or each other! You've done me proud, and I think you have shown everyone that our little Line Game has a place in sports days going forward. Be proud, my brave sporting pioneers.” The words didn't quite pick up his Cubs as he'd hoped, so he tried for a dash of dark humour. He gestured to Mister Titus and his Red Kestrels, the first of which was already being bent over a nearby bench. “How about this? Think about those poor little girls. She's getting twenty from Mister Titus for winning! Little Francine there is facing thirty! I know you're going to hurt more now than you would have, but you're saving them a lot of extra licks!”
“It's almost like we're doing a good deed by coming in third,” Lusu said, albeit begrudgingly.
“That's the spirit. Now, let's get the unpleasantries out of the way. Talek? Come with me.”
With a heavy heart, Talek followed the medicalos to a waiting bench. He tried to console himself, thinking on how ten swats was trivial compared to what his friends would have to take, and Timothy was only twelve so he couldn't spank him that hard, surely? He removed his shorts and bent over without requiring instruction, an act that would at least earn him a little more approval.
“You want this over quick?” Timothy asked.
“Yes please.”
“Alright. I'm going to bind your tail.” A strap was looped around Talek's appendage and fastened to the bench. Once ratcheted up, his thick tail was held rigid, exposing the base. “Deep breath.”
The hope Miller's youth would lead to weakness turned out to be a false one. The studded leather cracked against the base of Talek's tail, the thin double line of metal studs driving the force of the strike deep into the muscle. A sharp, pained yelp escaped Talek's maw as he grit his teeth and tried to focus on his breathing. As promised, Miller was being swift; the leather lingered only so long as to fully transfer its agonising force before a second stroke was readied and loosed, then the third, and fourth. The rapid cracking was like a terrible metronome of misery, reducing Talek to loud, childish sobs of pain as his tail's base throbbed and pulsed in anguish. His claws dug into the bench's wood, adding new scratches to the thousands made by penitatas who'd come before. By the end he was openly sobbing, with no effort made to hold back. Why bother? Self restraint wouldn't make the pain any easier, and everyone else was either too busy crying from their own spanking to notice, or would be soon enough.
“Good lad. Let me get you free.” The base of Talek's tale was aflame. Unseen, a hefty bruise was growing and would settle there, lingering long after thanks to how deep it was. Simple acts like walking would send twinges up his spine for hours to come, drawing frequent rasps and hisses from the boy's clenched teeth. That was something to look forward to later; for now, he had the immediate, raw pain to contend with.

Tulu and Francine took their licks side by side. Both girls were bent over, legs wide apart and bound so with ankle cuffs. There was no need for such a measure, given how their punishment was supposed to be aimed purely at their bottoms, but Tulu felt sure the exposure was done to heighten their humiliation, and thus enhance the pleasure of their tormentors. Francine's whipping came via her father; Tulu would suffer via the hand of Mister Titus. Arno stepped over and knelt down before his whimpering charge, initially appearing to offer comfort. “You did exceptionally well today. I'm proud of you. We both are.”
“Thanks.” Tulu fought back a sniffle as Arno leaned in and put weight upon her back. So much for comfort.
Both girls flinched at the swish of the whip, but it was Francine who shrieked first. Her young, vulpine howl disguised the incoming swat from Mister Titus, whose aim was low and caught Tulu at the base of her cheek. She jolted, squealing in agony at the low blow. The swats for sports day were meant to be aimed firmly on her cheeks, not her thigh! That was borderline unfair! A swish, a crack, and another jolt of hellfire burned across the top of her leg. “No!” she howled. “Not there!”
Francine let out another howl. Where the whip was striking her, Tulu had no idea. Nor did she care; the base of her right cheek caught the third stroke, and the fourth. They landed in odd rhythms, the two adults making their strikes irregular so neither girl knew who was about to be stung. Mister Titus was extending the Claw as far as he could, much as he had with Hasi, making the strikes pin-point to focus the pain into a precise, devilish little dot.
“Stoooop!” Tulu screamed, thrashing in her binds as the devil's count went on. This was only the second time she'd felt the Claw, yet it was infinitely worse; the half dozen she'd taken as a 'welcome' spanking had been tame compared to these!
She stopped fighting after ten. She lacked the strength. Tulu surrendered to fate and merely howled out her anguish, tears and snot dripping from her snout to pool upon the ground beneath her. Her entire body convulsed with each swing, rocking her hips into the bench. Merciful padding was the only thing that kept her from bruising, given the fierceness with which she'd jolted under the early strokes.
Fourteen whips delivered. One to go. It came down with a precision born of purest evil, snapping over the soft wrinkle of pink flesh that shielded her clitoral nub. Tulu bucked against her father's grip and shrieked so loud her voice cracked. The agony was beyond comprehension, a thousand times worse than nettles, a pain so overwhelming it blotted out the fire in her thighs and sent convulsions through her stomach. She began to wet, a shameful, spluttering spray of urine drawn out as her bladder's muscles spasmed in shock at what she'd just suffered. Over her banshee wail she barely heard Arno's urgent assurances. “It's okay, Tulu. It's over. It's done.”
Francine was still shrieking when Tulu was helped to her feet. Arno hoisted her up and cradled her in his arms. The parent's gaze was fixed squarely on Mister Titus, who did not flinch under the Karrian's murderous glare. “That was utterly uncalled for!”
“If she reflects enough upon prior lessons, she will understand.” Mister Titus casually gestured for Arno to move aside so the bench could be readied for its next victim.

The sports day might not have taken place at a camp, but camping food was provided nonetheless. The delightful smell of barbecued meat helped the penitatas forget their pain, and soon Talek and Rilka were dutifully watching the remainder of the day's events play out. Their own event had drawn a good crowd, not to mention however many had listened along via radio. Penitatas would occasionally complement them on their efforts, even the teams who'd come joint third. The closing ceremony revealed that the Sea Foxes had been unlucky across the board, coming dead last. The Oliphants had just managed second place, a feat that Mr Kal looked incredibly proud of. When he received the silver medal on behalf of his pupils he held it aloft as though it were a championship trophy. Victory on the day went to the Red Kestrels, who stood up on a makeshift stage and sang their house song to honour the feat. Talek and Rilka walked home with their parents. Arno took Tulu home via hovercar.

When next the children stood upon the playground they found their hallowed playing field a crowded space. Rejuves young and 'old' alike had gathered, forming little clusters divided on house lines. An argument had broken out between one of the Red Kestrels, presumably a 'reserve' player based on his line of attack, and a regular from the Oliphants. The Red Kestrels claimed they should get first use of the court since they won sports day. The counter-argument was that this wasn't sports day any more and, the Oliphant being bigger, he was happy to put the smaller Karrian in his place. Others argued over the arguments themselves, loudly proclaiming they just wanted to play.
“What's all this about?” Talek asked as he melded into the throng. Seeing him and his friends approach, the crowd made space and he was rapidly ushered to the head of the Sea Fox clump.
“People took a liking to your event,” Isabelle answered.
“But why?”
She shrugged. “Maybe because it was always 'our' thing? A game made by penitatas, for penitatas. 
“This doesn't feel like the Line Game I know.”
Sa'shel appeared to agree, for the Drakonian chose that moment to raise up her head and bellow over the crowd, “Shut it!” Silence rang out. She lowered her gaze to assess the crowd, pausing for a time on the politely smiling features of Timothy. Confident she wasn't in trouble, she pressed on. “Listen here, all of you! I am referee here, and so what I say goes! Don't like it? Jog on! We're going to play the game via playground rules: no teams, no hard tackles, and absolutely no ripped clothes! Kost, you won the last game so you start on the Line!”
Despite the ruling, there was a great deal of team spirit cheering for Kost as he trotted into place. He  threw a soldier's salute to his fellow Honeybees while the others debated who would get to be in the line-up. There were more people wanting to play than could reasonably fit on the starting line, and so some diplomacy was needed to decide who would sit out the first round. They played to cheers and whoops and heartfelt applause, made all the more energetic now that the previously excluded classifications of rejuve could also be part of the game.
Onlookers picked favourites and placed friendly wagers on who would win, or which house would win. Others asked the players, or Sa'shel whether there'd be another tournament. None of them asked Timothy. Talek realised, through the help of Penelope, that a myth had begun to circulate; the Line Game's inclusion in sports day was being attributed to the players themselves, not to Timothy or any of the staff.
Other players were coming to the same conclusions Talek had. They congregated naturally, the disparate social circles converging on their common love of a playground activity, and shared time in the spotlight. “I think people want us to compete again,” Talek said.
“I'm game for that!” Kost answered with his usual vim and vigour.
“We need to let everyone take part this time,” Ki'reth added. “Some of the best players were left out because of the 'Penny Only' rule.”
“You just want Isabelle on your team!”
“You lost out on Jay as well.”
Penelope offered a thought that sparked eagerly from rejuve to rejuve. “What if we can make this an official activity, like Radio Northrock? An extra credit thing!”
“Something that gets us out of class?” Malth's hope on that front was palpable.
Plans formed, avenues of inquiry were settled on, and by the end of the lunch break there were multiple penitatas set upon their missions. They quickly learned they were far from the only ones eager to see the Line Game elevated; the very next week, all who had participated in the sports day were asked to bring their playing kits into school. On a bright, still morning while their peers suffered under drudge-work lessons the two dozen rejuves were called out onto the playground. Timothy Miller waited there for them, along with a school security guard and a pale Karrian in a formal robe. “Don't worry, nobody's in trouble!” Timothy called to them as they came. “We just wanted to do something a little special, and we needed special permissions to do it. I want all of you to change into your sports kits. You can do it right here!”
The brief act of public undressing in front of a stranger passed without incident. The Red Kestrels were the first to be summoned and told to line up at the far end of the pitch, whereupon the official unveiled a holocamera and instructed them on how to pose for the capture. Pictures of each team were taken, and with that done they were told to change back and return to class.
The next day, each child received a copy of their team's photograph encased in protective plastic. In Talek and Rilka's cases, theirs bore the label “Team Sea Fox – 2892”.
“I guess this means the Line Game is here to stay!” Talek laughed as he studied Rilka's image. She looked good in a P.E. kit.
“Means you need to work harder or you'll be kicked off the team!” she laughed back before planting a kiss on his cheek. “I don't know about you, but I plan to win next time!”
“Absolutely!”

Curled up on the sofa, Timothy Miller admired his own copy of the Sea Fox team photograph. A Red Kestrels copy sat on the coffee table, partially obscured from his vision by a steaming mug that gave off the potent smell of mint and lemon. “They're going to love these,” he said.
Mister Titus settled into his spot and picked up the mug. “Of that I have no doubt. Next time we will get pictures of them wearing medals, or perhaps holding a trophy.”
“No, that's going too far. It needs to be their game. We can't artificially insert elements from outside.” He set the picture down. “Did you ever play?”
“No. I always thought it was a stupid game. I always wanted to play on the swings.”
“Right. You were part of the swing mafia.”
The Roferian grinned. “The Line Game is for those unworthy of the swings.”
Timothy chuckled. “Isabelle will not be happy to hear you say that! She helped codify the game!”
“As I said, unworthy.”
The boy leaned back, wriggling into the corner of the sofa and tucking his legs up. “You were right about turning a blind eye to rough play as well. I was worried things would get ugly a few times, but it certainly brought out their competitive spirit.”
“Their lives are stressful, and the rigidity of those lives amplifies the pressure. Rough play provides a release. They are beloved not just because they represent their house, but because others see the freedom of the game and desire it for themselves. Nowhere else in Northrock are skinned knees earned without someone getting spanked.”
“You sentimental old soul!”
Mister Titus snickered. “Keep that to yourself, Timothy. I have a reputation to maintain.”