Mesnyi
A circle scarcely wider
Than the trees around were tall;
Than the trees around were tall;
A
hesitant dancer was no stranger to Mesnyi, though she could not claim to understand the behavior. She had taken to dancing like a bird to seed, and there was little of Mesnyi that did not sway like the branch of a weeping willow (branch always seemed like too harsh a word for those sorts of things, anyway, with all their curling under the weight of so many blossoms and leaves). She smiled and walked forward to meet him, doe-like and fragile in every context but the dance floor. ”I’ve spent some time learning the dances of this land, and I must say they are quite beautiful, but most are not dauntingly elaborate. Let us start with something from Denocte,” for when she grinned, rumor bled from her lips like sap from a tree, initials crudely carved into its unyielding flesh.Though most things yield to love, she thought.
The violin sped into a downscaling of notes and Mesnyi turned on it, staring the glass creation down from across the clearing. ”Oh, don’t you scare him.” She looked back to Eik and smiled. ”It likes to play tricks when my attention wanders. We will start with something slow, worry not.” The violin fell under her command as she stepped back, inviting Eik to venture farther into the glade. ”I imagine that you will be leading in such dances, though I do not mean to assume what manner of partner you may have…” Though she knew, oh, like the eyes and the ears of the courts knew, all-seeing, all-hearing, all-witnessing.
"You see, women are like fires, like flames. Some women are like candles, bright and friendly. Some are like single sparks, or embers, like fireflies for chasing on summer nights. Some are like campfires, all light and heat for a night and willing to be left after. Some women are like hearthfires, not much to look at but underneath they are all warm red coal that burns a long, long while."
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