 Chaser (if no Keeper wants to interact, I'll post a result next tiiime) be curious, not judgmental
Nearing the hoops they were meant to navigate through, Callum watched the others already at the station, Theo and Olivia, taking their turns with the obstacles and shooting to score. He hadn't done anything this structured since his attendance at Quidditch camp during his pre-Hogwarts years, but he wasn't worried. He was good on a broom, he was strong, he was athletic, he was agile, he had muscles in all the right places... there wasn't a self-conscious bone in his body right now. All confidence, all the time.
His turn. The quaffle came sailing his way and he braced himself for it - he had to move slightly to the right and back just a little to settle himself where the quaffle was going to reach him, movements that were second nature, and he sat up and extended both hands above his head to catch it-- he did, but became a little unsteady, having to lean forward and regain complete balance and control. His attention immediately turned to Zoryn, who he griiiiiiiinned a little too broadly at. It was just a little wobble, Cap, nothing to worry about, surely...?
Now that he had control of the quaffle, he tucked it under his arm. He felt he had a bit of an advantage here, playing Chaser: his long arms were advantageous for stealing the ball and stretching out further to make catches (though he probably needed to work on being able to do so without compromising his balance on the broomstick) - and he could use his other freakishly long arm to push away anyone trying to intercept the quaffle or make him fumble. Hah.
It took him a moment to settle the sudden nerves that had arisen. The hoops weren't a concern for him, but as soon as he emerged, he wanted to quickly assess the situation with the Keeper and chuck it. The more he would hesitate upon facing the Keeper, the more the Keeper would be able to study him and see where he was going to try to make a move. There had to be some mind games going on, right? It was probably best to be impulsive about it and make a last-second decision, so...
Before he could let himself overthink it too much longer, he shot forward, weaving himself through the first hoop with great speed - that is, until he felt the twigs on the back end of his broomstick brush against the hoop he had just ventured through. He slowed his speed slightly, making sure to finish out the remaining hoops cleanly, and as he emerged from the last obstacle, he took the quaffle in his hand, faked a throw to the left hoop - then quickly snapped his arm back and chucked the quaffle toward the right hoop instead.
PLEASE, MERLIN, LET IT GO IN.
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