“Yep,” said Wendell, thinking that Richard must be the only ten-year-old in the country who said “presume” out loud in sentences.
They looked at each other, and the undercurrent of childhood rivalry rose up in a mutual giggling ferocity that set them leaping at each other. Growling and yelling and laughing, they grappled and rolled in a narrow space of the floor that was still clear. Both were slender and limber, making them quick at close quarters. Richard had the reach, being considerably taller—and he looked thinner on account of it—but Wendell was more aggressive. As they rapidly approached their usual stalemate, someone's foot flicked into a battlefield and knocked over a few miniature stalwarts. Instantly, they both froze.
“Whose was it?” Richard panted, holding an awkward pose.
“
