After days of pleading, his Mother has finally let him go, on condition that he would not fight with the children, and will come back when she calls.
Seconds later, he is back at the door, whimpering, sufficient amount of skin peeled off his elbows, knees and wrist, a spatter of red on them, gathered from his first encounter with the ground.
His Mother hurries to take him in her arms, clean the bruises and apply medicine on them, comforting him. "It's all right; let's go for a walk - and you can go to play tomorrow."
"No," says the brave child, fighting back tears, "Make my pain go away, and I'll go back to the play-ground."