Laurence pushed Mordred gently toward the two girls. “Go and play while you still may. I’ve neglected my duties long enough for this sport.”
Mordred chuckled. “As you wish, my lord,” he says, bowing to him before he walks towards Summer and Winter. “You’re doing it wrong,” he teases, “your foot isn’t stable.”
“My weight isn’t supposed to be on that foot,” Summer said, shifting forward a bit. “I should be able to move quickly, not be planted in the earth the way you do.”