By Fianna

She felt the desire welling up inside her once more. She needed to break free, to express herself. The urge was so strong that she could not ignore it. Rising to her feet, she let go of everything. She released her fears, her dreams, her worries and cares, letting them go completely. The world seemed to disappear and nothing else mattered to her. She danced.

She danced often, but never in public. Her dance was for her and her alone. Her dance was too private and too personal to allow intruders. She could not allow anyone to see so much of herself. Her dancing was the way she expressed her emotions. When filled with anger, she danced. When filled with sadness, she danced. She danced when joyful, she danced when scared. Always beautiful, but always changing. Her dancing was a reflection of her moods. She could express her deepest thoughts when she danced. The emotions flowed out of her easily, and took on the form of steps and gestures as she danced.

She stepped lightly as she lifted one leg to the sky. Slowly raising her arms, she smiled. Tonight she would express the passion and love she had for dance. She’d seen many dance styles in her life. The humans she lived with often watched dance programs on television, and she had watched them as well. She had seen jazz dancers that reminded her of Bombalurina. She had seen tap dancing, making her think of Jennyanydots. She had seen so many different styles of dance, she could not remember them all. But her favourite were the ballet dancers. One male dancer reminded her of Mistoffelees. He, too, shared her love of dance, but his dance was less personal than hers. All the tribe had seen his dancing and had admired it, yet she felt it was lacking something. Life, perhaps. She was not sure and would never dare to tell him. He did not need to know.

She thought of the ballet dancers as she began to dance more quickly. Spinning and turning, she leapt into the air, landing gently. She jumped again and seemed to float in the air, hovering for a short time before returning to the ground. Oblivious to everything around her, she danced. She mimicked the steps she had seen the ballet dancers do. They, too, danced with passion. She could see it in the way they held themselves, in the sparkle in their eyes. She danced as they did - with a love too strong to be denied.

Gradually, her dancing became slow again. She caught her breath as she went into an arabesque, gracefully stretching her leg out behind her. She began to dance her favourite dance, one that she had choreographed herself. The Solo Dance, as she called it, was slow and graceful, requiring excellent balance and skill. She doubted that any of the other Jellicles could do it, even though they all possessed excellent dance skills. Lowering herself into splits, she reflected that it was only through years of hard work that she was able to dance it now. This dance was also very expressive, it told her story. Beautiful and elegant, yet somehow alone. Very singular and extremely exclusive. She had few friends, and she supposed there were few felines able to perform the Solo Dance well. But then again, it appeared to be more difficult than it was, just as she appeared less friendly than she was. It was not a happy dance, but there was a sense of tranquillity and peace about it. Acceptance of the way things were.

Finishing the dance, she sighed. Maybe one day she would have the courage to perform her dance at the Jellicle Ball. Amaze and surprise them. Let them see that Mistoffelees wasn’t the only remarkable dancer. And perhaps she would. She could only imagine their expressions as they watched her dance. Would they think better of her? Would they begin to like her more? She wasn’t sure. But she looked forward to the day when she could find out.

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