---
A few moments later… (more than an hour)
They reached the staging post at the edge of the black jungle as the second bell slouched toward the third. The proctors' board was a scarred plank slung between two iron stakes, pocked by a hundred names and a thousand ambitions. Cores clinked into tally boxes, slips slid under brass clips, and one very tired upperclassman recorded totals with the glassy stare of someone who had forgotten what beds look like.
Rhea had already laid their slips on the rail: Stonecoil, Bramblehorn, Hisscat, Barkback, Ridge-back, Snarl Ape, Snaptail. The proctor counted, lips moving, then nodded once. "Seven cores logged. Day one is not a liar."
Ray shifted his weight like a man negotiating a treaty with his ankle. He eyed the chalk title, then Rhea, then John. "Team Lord Fizz," he said, as if tasting a medicine that might also be candy.
Fizz planted tiny paws on tiny hips. "Brand cohesion is crucial. Also it is my name."
