Mickey trotted on the field, kicking a ball along. His control over it was easy and confident, the thing never getting too far away from him. While Mickey wasn't the best soccer player in school, he was definitely in the top and one of the better all-rounders. His skills and his passion for the sport especially -- he was a Spaniard, after all -- helped him get all the way to Team Captain. He loved the sport, and didn't mind teaching it to Ashton.
Unlike the dragon, Mickey didn't mind Ashton. Sure, they weren't each others most favorite persons, but Mickey didn't bore Ashton ill. If the guy wanted to play soccer? Then they would play soccer.
When he made it to Ashton, Mickey kicked up the ball, bounced it off his head and then caught it between both hands. "This is the ball," he said, smiling. "You kick it with your feet and you don't use your hands, and your goal is to, well, score a goal. Get it between the goal-posts. No tackling, no shoving, no biting. Play it civil." He twirled the ball between his hands. "You wanna start with a little practice, or get right down to it?"