---
There was silence for a few moments. It wasn't reverent, exactly. It was the kind of quiet that teams give themselves after they get through a thing without telling the world how difficult that thing was. Then Fizz ruined the solemnity by performing a tiny victory dance that looked like a pastry shop achieved sentience.
"Lets get to the core," Rhea said briskly. "Slip, tag, move."
Ray scrubbed a hand over his face, smearing dirt into a new family portrait of humility. He looked at John and didn't attempt a smile because smiles are fragile and this wasn't one. "Thank you," he said, and the words sounded like he had spoken a language he'd despised until now.
"Eat something," John said. "And drink, or your legs will lecture you."
Fizz hovered up to Ray's eye level, paws on hips. "Lesson one," he announced. "Fire waits. Pride runs. You will choose fire. Also if you bring sweets to class you pass faster."
Ray blinked. "I am not bribing a guest professor."
