*a dull, chittering rattle-sigh starts this message. strange, as it’s text-only.*
“For a thing like you, your words uncharacteristically stumble in the rhythm of assertion. You know how to move in tandem. Let the words levied unto you be met by grace-step.
“You know who you are, chérie. {We} urge you to dance to your true-heart. Do not be afraid to find new cadence.”
[Audio interspersed with sniffles and quiet sobs.]
~♡ But... I am afraid... J'ai tellement peur... I always have been...
~♡ I was made and raised for a marching cadence, not the dances I so love, and every step I take out of that line makes me more afraid. Simply getting here. Has been so. Frightening. At every turn.
~♡ H-how much further may I stray from who I was supposed to be?
-♡ I do not change. When last I did, mon papa stopped looking at me. W-who will I lose if I change again? I do not wish to know this...










