Dawson, after making his way out of the locker room, slowed his steps as he reached the tunnel exit.
The floodlights had now been turned on, spilling in from ahead after the sky darkened, threatening to rain, but not a drop had fallen.
In the stadium, the half-time pause had done nothing to cool the place.
If anything, it had sharpened it.
"Good player, you've got there," a voice suddenly came.
Dawson turned slightly as Jon Dahl came alongside him, walking at an easy pace with hands clasped behind his back.
"He keeps the ball well," Dahl continued. "Knows when to play fast, when to hold it. That's rare at this level and age."
Dawson gave a small nod, waiting.
"But be careful," Dahl added, stopping just long enough to let the words settle.
And then he turned to face Dawson with a smirk.
"Players like that are bound to be swept up soon. I wonder how long you can keep him for?"
Dawson tilted his head, a wry smile cutting across his face.
