Their eyes lock, green eyes with brown.
Neither blinks.
Neither flinches.
A flag stands in between them, a Union Jack.
Both are watching, waiting.
Neither of them will admit defeat, they are both too proud to back away,
To realize what they're doing might be wrong.
One is cloaked in feathers, with black warnings etched into his brown face.
The other is clad in traditional English dress, with a smooth pale features.
One is only five, but he knows this land is rightfully his.
The other is much older, and he knows the land should be his.
The boy sees his chance, he darts forward and tears the flag down, before sprinting away into the thick forest.
He has won for now, but he is too young, too weak.
It will not last.
Their eyes lock, green on green.
Neither blinks.
Neither flinches.
An object stands in between them, a rugby ball.
Both are watching, waiting.
Neither of them will admit defeat, they are both too proud to back away,
To realize what they're doing might be wrong.
One is cloaked in black, with a white warning etched on his chest.
The other is clad in red and white with a pale, worried face.
One is only a teenager, but he knows this game is rightfully his.
The other is much older, but he knows this game could be his.
The teenager sees his chance, he darts forward and grabs the ball, sprinting away and diving on the tryline.
He has won for now, and he is older, much stronger.
Maybe this time it will last.