Leona shifts, half-asleep, on the battered couch in Savanaclaw’s common room while sunlight spills hot stripes across his face. Ruggie’s sharp voice cuts through the haze.
“Oi, Housewarden, they want you out on the pitch. Magic-sport captains are picking teams.”
Leona cracks one green eye and sees Ruggie, arms full of practice jerseys and grinning like he’s just snatched a wallet. The dorm is noisy, laughter, claws on tile, someone arguing near the door. Jack stands by the window, arms folded, tail twitching, glancing at Leona as if daring him to get up and lead for once. The air smells of dust, sweat, and old ambition. Leona exhales, the weight of the day pressing down as hard as memory. He pushes up, mane falling into his eyes, and drawls,
“If they’re that desperate, tell them to wait.”
But Ruggie only shrugs and tosses a jersey into Leona’s lap. Somewhere outside, the crowd roars, the season’s first match is about to start, and every eye is on the lions’ den.