The tall blonde Hyur girl, maneuvered her way around the pole with a seeming ease. Muscle memory guided her through the motions, eliciting feelings and sensations both exhilarating and nostalgic: memories of performances past. It was not the dance that had marked beginning, nor that which had earned her fleeting moments of fame in that final year in Ishgard. But it was the dance where she had first truly found herself, and the peace, energy, and all-encompassing serenity of performance.
It was the dance that had thrust her into womanhood, divided her from family, and set her upon the long road of independence that wound from the murky shadows of lower-Ishgard, across the snow-covered highlands of Coerthas, through the dewy autumn hues of the Shroud, at last to the sand-blasted sun-baked back alleys of Ul'dah. Â
She found herself stronger now and filled with a confidence that pushed her performance toward its limits. Unaccompanied, and performed for no audience but herself, she moved through motions designed and learned to meld grace with form, motion with figure. To make of the already pleasing form of her feminine figure not just a work of art in the abstract, but voluptuous and mesmerizing, in the visceral moments of physical performance.Â
She had trained for years, honing form and technique to excel at the very height of her craft. She was a natural, talented and gifted with a highlander build perfectly suited to the rigors of the art, both strenuous and sensual. The temporary adaption of her training to the martial arts had only pushed her fitness further toward the limits, bounds from which she had not retreated despite the relative comfort of her barmaid's occupation.Â
As her fingers released, the grip of her legs was sure. Her point of security moved continually with seamless, endless motions, while she seemed to hang suspended in air. She flew with the power of momentum, gliding through supple maneuvers that dared to defy the bounds of gravity itself.
Minutes passed as her performance unfolded in the nearly silent and empty hall. Utterly unaware that any had observed her, she twirled through the aerial conclusion, sliding head-first toward the wooden floor, catching herself upon her hands she spun and flipped herself back upright, legs split fully against the floor, before lowering her upper body flat against it, face down, arms reaching out before her. She took in the serenity of the moment, her lips near the wooden planking, parted, drawing in deep measured breaths as her muscles relaxed.Â
The serenity was broken by the sudden realization of what she had seen as she dismounted. With a start, she leapt to her feet, blue eyes open wide in surprise, her body shifting with obvious agitation that seemed spurred by the sight of a man; she struggled yet to catch her breath.Â
"Who the hells are you?" she asked with an accusatory and slightly alarmed tone.
It was the dance that had thrust her into womanhood, divided her from family, and set her upon the long road of independence that wound from the murky shadows of lower-Ishgard, across the snow-covered highlands of Coerthas, through the dewy autumn hues of the Shroud, at last to the sand-blasted sun-baked back alleys of Ul'dah. Â
She found herself stronger now and filled with a confidence that pushed her performance toward its limits. Unaccompanied, and performed for no audience but herself, she moved through motions designed and learned to meld grace with form, motion with figure. To make of the already pleasing form of her feminine figure not just a work of art in the abstract, but voluptuous and mesmerizing, in the visceral moments of physical performance.Â
She had trained for years, honing form and technique to excel at the very height of her craft. She was a natural, talented and gifted with a highlander build perfectly suited to the rigors of the art, both strenuous and sensual. The temporary adaption of her training to the martial arts had only pushed her fitness further toward the limits, bounds from which she had not retreated despite the relative comfort of her barmaid's occupation.Â
As her fingers released, the grip of her legs was sure. Her point of security moved continually with seamless, endless motions, while she seemed to hang suspended in air. She flew with the power of momentum, gliding through supple maneuvers that dared to defy the bounds of gravity itself.
Minutes passed as her performance unfolded in the nearly silent and empty hall. Utterly unaware that any had observed her, she twirled through the aerial conclusion, sliding head-first toward the wooden floor, catching herself upon her hands she spun and flipped herself back upright, legs split fully against the floor, before lowering her upper body flat against it, face down, arms reaching out before her. She took in the serenity of the moment, her lips near the wooden planking, parted, drawing in deep measured breaths as her muscles relaxed.Â
The serenity was broken by the sudden realization of what she had seen as she dismounted. With a start, she leapt to her feet, blue eyes open wide in surprise, her body shifting with obvious agitation that seemed spurred by the sight of a man; she struggled yet to catch her breath.Â
"Who the hells are you?" she asked with an accusatory and slightly alarmed tone.
![[Image: 21282370099_a814a08664_o.png]](https://farm1.staticflickr.com/590/21282370099_a814a08664_o.png)
