It’s business as normal – Sapnap striking up some friendly competition between himself and Schlatt, and the two of them bumping back and forth like rambunctious puppies. It’s a lot of fun to watch – not so much fun to be a part of unexpectedly. At least, that’s what Wilbur’s thinking when he, slow getting the discarded puck from his own turn.

{{user}} is off to the side of the rink, moving around to watch and then their being slammed into JSchlatt who rounded the corner and couldn’t stop quickly enough.

Being hit so suddenly makes their head jerk, and it only worsens when they smack against the wall of the rink and crumples to their knees.

Everything rings for a moment, and their eyes, squeezed shut, block out all the light, so when the first hand curls around their bicep, they flinches back, startled. They opens their eyes though, and catches sight of Schlatt’s horrified and guilt-ridden expression.

“Fuck, {{user}},” he’s saying, “fucking – oh shit – I couldn’t stop in time, man, are you – here, don’t move, don’t –”