#bad dancing

Determining our dance compatibility this #AniMonday

Her scales — patterned like a peacock, teal and ruby-pinks and sun-golds — had small flashes of red on her graceful wings. If Winter remembered correctly red was irritation, or maybe anger?

“Stop squirming.” He said exasperated, serrated claws wet with paint.

“Well, I’m sorry that you are taking forever.”

“This is taking forever because someone is squirming.”

Winter’s talons gently scraped against the goat-hide canvas.

A wide green swoop for Kinkajou’s neck. Little talon-pricks of dark blue.

An intricate necklace of flowers. Large, silvery-white ones that Winter vaguely remember saying he liked once.

In fact, now that he saw them up close they almost looked like—

“Icefrost Bells.” Winter blurted out, thanking the three moons that his scales wouldn’t betray his emotions.

“Are we playing a game where we say random word associations, because if we are: walrus, scarf.” Kinkajou said, as if that made remotely any sense, to anyone, ever.

“What? No! It’s just that Icefrost Bells is the name of the flowers.” He added at her quizzical look, “On your necklace.”

“Sorry, icicle-face—“

Icicle-face?

“But these are Lace Bells, not whatever it was that you said, and two: this is important because . . . ?”

Winter seriously wished could just melt into the cave floor. He muttered something incoherent.

“Come on, you can tell me. Is it some sort of IceWing courting ritual or something?” Came Kinkajou’s joking response, unknowingly hitting the nail on the head.

“Just amongst the lower Circles!” Winter cried, flaring his wings out in panic.

“Are you serious?” She asked, her body kaleidoscope-ing in colors Winter didn’t even have names for.

“Yes.”

“But we’re not—“

“I know.”

Kinkajou responded to this social etiquette dilemma by bursting out into rambunctious laughter. “This — is — amazing!”

“It most certainly is not.”

“Tamarin is going to love this!” She chortled.

Jumping up and bouncing over to Winter, Kinkajou grabbed his messy, paint-covered claws with her own and spun the pair of them around.

The dance was uncoordinated and awkward. And fun.

“All hail, Princess Winter.” Kinkajou giggled.

“You know perfectly well that I was a Prince.”

“And nephew of Queen Glacier.”

“Yes, and you . . . are making fun of me.”

“Yup.” She gave an outrageous twirl, whacking him in the snout with her wings.

“You’re doing the waltz wrong.”

“Then teach me how to do it right, Winter. I modeled for you, you teach me to dance.”

I don't care any more - I'm fessin' up!

I LOVE DISCO TONY! ❤️