René was sure this was a terrible idea. He'd never really flown before outside of hovering awkwardly around the park with Sully over the holidays. Sully had kept saying it was just like riding a bike, which René vehemently disputed. It was only like riding a bike if the bike didn't have any handlebars or pedals or flew 20 metres in the air. But after a goading pep-talk from his brother and the captain's permission, here he was, feeling far too tall for the tiny school broom he'd borrowed. "I'm René Tofilau and um, I'm trying out for chaser." Chaser was the only position he had any real clue about, having heard enough recaps of Sully's games that he at least knew what to do.
Straddling his broom, René kicked off, trying not to shut his eyes and he watched the ground drift away below him. He'd definitely never flown this high with Sully and René tried to push away any terrible visions of him falling out of his mind. His next goal was to try and get the quaffle, which he eventually managed after a few wobbly laps. While it was way way scarier to grab it this high, René was relieved that actually catching or throwing the quaffle didn't seem any harder whether he was flying one or twenty metres up. He just had to make sure he didn't look down. René passed the quaffle a few times to other chasers, getting spooked away from the goals when he saw a bludger zip past. Finally though, he knew he had to at least try to make a goal, flying over awkwardly and tossing the quaffle one-handedly, his other still wrapped tight to his broom. The shot was blocked easily and René hung his head. At least he could land now, relieved to have his shaking legs back on solid ground now that try-outs were over.