Rooting for underdogs

No matter how much his Canine other half itched to leap into the field and fetch the ball, he held himself back. The Chieftain's orders were clear—to never interfere with the things of the humans. After all, they needed to earn their favor, not their suspicion.

So, the Orcanine Orc remained where he was and allowed himself to simply watch the strange ritual of the Rebornians.

Once again, the Dragonborn threw the ball towards the one opposite her, and just like before, the demi-human's swing missed by just a hair's width, and the ball landed cleanly in the mitt.

"Argh!" the Orcanine grumbled. He felt like he could have done much better if he were in the position of the catfolk holding the bat. Maybe even earned a cheer or two.

But of course, he had to suppress his urge to jump over the fence and simply watch as it unfolded.