"That's okay if they're full up. So long as I get to fly somehow," Billie stated, confidently. She would, of course, be incredibly disappointed if she didn't make the team, but it didn't sound like that would be the end of her chances at flying or playing recreationally. Her unfailing optimism was, sometimes, a godsend. She would have turned out to be a much more bitter and subdued child, otherwise.

"Well, it's good you were stubborn then! 'Cause otherwise you wouldn't be on the best team." By that, she meant the national team. She also highly doubted Gus was bad at nearly everything. She didn't think people survived into adulthood if they were like that. Unless they were obscenely rich, but she was fairly certain quidditch players weren't wealthy.

When Gus nudged her, Billie started to giggle and peeked up at Gideon with pleading eyes, "Yeah, I'll help you practice! I bet you're pretty good already, anyways." She hadn't really babbled at him overly much about quidditch, but she assumed that her father was automatically good at most things. Not that she would ever say it out loud, she really looked up to him. It was likely for the best he hadn't mentioned boxing; she might have latched onto that instead.

Hearing Gideon's suggestion, she raised her eyebrows with interest. Broom racing sounded right up her alley. "Are there...um...obstacles in broom racing? Or do you just get to go really, really fast?" Both options sounded amazing. She was very good at foot races, if she did say so herself.