dancing with myself [OPEN]
Who: Cherry and YOU
What: Decompressing and dancing
When: Sunday afternoon
Where: Just west of the wall
Cherry knew that on the surface, it might look a little bit affective, but the warm weather was simply calling to her today. She figured she'd go outside of the city, so has not to be confused with some kind of street performer. This was a satisfying decision because there was a low wind outside of the wall that brushed against her face in a way that could only be compared to flying. And this experience was definitely improved by the lack of feathers.
She found a nice, clear area, just before the trees. Perfect! There was a stump nearby, where she dropped her satchel and kicked off her shoes. The new grass felt bristly and pleasant between her toes. For a moment, she stood there, just feeling it. Really, really feeling it.
For a long while, she just stood there, until she felt the time was right. And then, without any sort of thought or prompt, Cherry started moving. Dancing, really. It was no particular style of dance. Just cherry's own special mish mosh. Arabesques accompanied timesteps. There were rigid plies with her feet in second position parallel. Spins. Twirls. Grapevines. Cherry threw her head back, watching the sky above her spin.
What: Decompressing and dancing
When: Sunday afternoon
Where: Just west of the wall
Cherry knew that on the surface, it might look a little bit affective, but the warm weather was simply calling to her today. She figured she'd go outside of the city, so has not to be confused with some kind of street performer. This was a satisfying decision because there was a low wind outside of the wall that brushed against her face in a way that could only be compared to flying. And this experience was definitely improved by the lack of feathers.
She found a nice, clear area, just before the trees. Perfect! There was a stump nearby, where she dropped her satchel and kicked off her shoes. The new grass felt bristly and pleasant between her toes. For a moment, she stood there, just feeling it. Really, really feeling it.
For a long while, she just stood there, until she felt the time was right. And then, without any sort of thought or prompt, Cherry started moving. Dancing, really. It was no particular style of dance. Just cherry's own special mish mosh. Arabesques accompanied timesteps. There were rigid plies with her feet in second position parallel. Spins. Twirls. Grapevines. Cherry threw her head back, watching the sky above her spin.