Sun Mote Copse musical chairs is turning into an adult drinking game.

Penn was under no delusion that he was in any way stronger than his cousin. Bronco clearly had size and build on him. Penn was learning how to use what talents he did have to his advantage, but when it came to something like this, he remained woefully outmatched.

But! Penn was his mother's son. Finley had never a day in her life allowed her own small size and slight build hold her back, and nor would her last born. He held tight for dear life as Bronco struggled to break free of him. He recognized Bronco's movements, but wasn't able to get his own leg out of the way before he felt teeth snapping into it. He winced from the pain, but didn't loosen his grip. It was until he noticed Fenn walking away that he loosened, and that was more out of surprise than due to any fight leaving him.

It was enough, though. He gagged as Bronco's weight slammed into his throat and he finally allowed himself to be shaken loose. He backpedaled away from his cousin, hackles still raised and head lowered to protect himself, though he made no move to re-engage. His breaths were heavy as he glared at the other boy. He tried to think of something to say, some last verbal slap in the face that he could throw. But Penn had nothing, so he merely snorted a "Fuck you," before he too turned and stalked off, trying not to limp from the cut across his foreleg, nor hurt from the fact that Fenn had just bailed.