Rookie Orientation

I sprinted straight from the front door to the living room the second I caught wind that the rookie had finally landed. There he was, parked right on the woven rug against the sofa leg: Baby Shadow, looking pint-sized and completely unprepared for elite racer daycare. I circled the little black-and-red figure twice, conducting an immediate aerodynamic inspection. His quills showed decent streamlining, but his posture was far too relaxed for my watch. I planted my joints in a firm power stance, tapped his tiny sneaker with my brick heel to check his balance, and laid down the ground rules. Orientation has officially begun.