Wēarām

A Thursday Prompt story
© 2019 by Walter Reimer


Thumbnail art by  rabbi-tom


Prompt: match


Varan touched a hand to the corner of her mouth, and looked at the mauve smears on her fingertip before glancing up at the other vir. The taste in her mouth was slightly sweet with a metallic tang underlying it. Her jaw hurt and her chest heaved as she panted.

“Sorry,” the vir said, and stepped back as Varan got to her feet. “Are you all right?” When she gestured in the affirmative, the opposing player loped off to rejoin the game.

Varan worked her jaws, and spat as she broke into a run to go after her opponent.

The Kith and another patrol cruiser, the Baraxjir, were both docked at a border station for a little rest before resuming their missions. Varan and a few of her crewmates were sitting in the station’s park having a meal when several shlani from the Baraxjir had joined them. The two groups spent a few cycles sharing food and recounting their experiences since the last time they’d met.

Then one of them, a sergeant-at-arms, spoke up. “Would anyone be interested in wēarām?”

“What do you propose?” asked one of the Kith’s ratings.

“Aka,” the kam said, “how about a one-kersh time limit, and,” there was a pause as he looked at his crewmates and the Kith’s, “six to a side?”

“Losers buy dinner?” Kirian asked. He grinned as the others accepted the wager, and once all the terms had been agreed upon, both teams headed for the open greenspace in the park to play.

Wēarām is the most popular group sport in the Empire, particularly prized by children and adolescents for its rough-and-tumble play and its mostly flexible rules. All it requires is an open space, a ball, a single goal, and a horolog to keep time. Any method of putting the ball in motion is legal, but it cannot be carried. Victory is determined by which team makes the most goals within the agreed-upon time limit.

Varan chose to be on her ship’s team, and she shed her duty uniform as the rest of the players removed theirs. No sense in getting the clothing torn or damaged. Kirian and the other kami elected to wear their singlets, however, to prevent their genitals from flapping about and getting an injury.

The sergeant-at-arms from the Baraxjir who had proposed the game stood at the boundary line with the ball, facing both teams as they jostled for position. The horolog buzzed, and he threw the ball into the melee before charging onto the pitch to help his teammates.

Varan threw an elbow into one kam’s stomach just below his ribs as her other hand batted the ball down to the ground, where her tail swept it sideways to one of her team. He caught it and threw it over an opponent before getting tackled hard to the xerith. The groundcover was soft, but not soft enough as exercise matting or a mattress. The vir missed the catch and the ball bounced free, pursued by both teams until one kam from the Baraxjir kicked it at the goal in the center of the pitch. His shot was too hard, and it sailed over the goal.

Both teams ran for it, and Varan managed to be a step faster than an opposing vir. She back-kicked the ball to Kirian in time to get knocked to the ground hard by her opponent. Wiping the blood from her mouth, she ran toward the melee that was developing near the goal.

Being careful to keep her toeclaws sheathed, she deftly kicked the vir who’d tackled her behind her knee and she crumpled as the ball came at her. Varan caught it, pivoted, and tossed it underhand to one of her team who was standing by the goal. She caught it and slammed it into the receptacle, eliciting a bong.

Kirian fished the ball out as both teams congregated a short distance away. He threw it at the group, and play resumed.

By the time the one-cycle limit had been reached, both teams were bruised and banged up, but the group from the Baraxjir had won the game, three goals to two. Both sides agreed that it had been fun, gathered up their uniforms and belongings, and headed for the nearby communal showers.

Varan was working liquid soap into her fur when her ears perked at a tap on her shoulder. “May I help you?” one of her erstwhile opponents asked. It was the same vir who’d knocked her down. Her fur color was a fashionable tivenekh, her eyes a bright yellow, and she was maybe a claw’s width taller than she was.

Varan smiled. “Only if I can help wash you. Varan.”

“Virian,” the other female said. They started running soapy hands through each other’s fur as she remarked, “Again, I apologize for hurting you.”

“It’s all part of the game,” Varan chuckled. “It’s a shame we lost.”

Virian gave an impish grin. “We won’t try to drain your accounts,” and the two viri laughed. They turned their heads at a sudden male groan, and they started laughing harder. Sexual acts in the shower areas were not unknown. “Tell me,” and Varan turned back to Virian, “would you be interested in having sex after we eat?” Her question was punctuated by another groan, and she chuckled.

“I think that’d be quite nice,” Varan said.

Even though she had to help pay for it, Varan conceded that the dinner was very tasty and reasonably priced.

The after-dinner activity was even better.