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"A Trek With Team Lost Cause " by mimitchi880
"I've called this meeting today because of…well." A cough. "You know. You've all seen the numbers." Vonde Cayle, left forward of the Lost Desert Altador Cup team, flicked his enormous Wocky tail in a gesture everyone knew meant "a record-breaking sandstorm of words is coming and you all are about to get a face full of it." Everything felt heavy today: his gear, the squiggly-lined heat coming in through the practice room window, and most of all, his ever-faltering hope in his team. "Since when do you call meetings?" asked Rhee, in the process of tugging her gloves off. "Where's Leera?" "Leera is in the Alone-Time Corner, weeping for our lost dignity." "Oh, come on," countered Derbi with a shake of her scarlet wings. Usually she acted as Vonde's right-hand man—literally, she played on his right-hand side—but today her indignant team spirit seemed to trump her loyalty. "We lose every other day, every other year. When was the last time we got anywhere near the podium?" "Altador Cup X, fourth place," muttered the team in four-part harmonization. A pause. A long, sad little pause. "Well, after all this time, I’ve finally realized what our mistake has been," Vonde told them. "Not enough slushies slung?" asked Rhee, right defender. "Not enough noise made?" tried Derbi. "Not enough…" Luvea, left defender, frowned. "Shootouts showed down?"

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