47th of Searing, 120 AV
The sun had long since set over Raellon. The people of the city were still moving about, heading to one location or another, but like most after a long day, the crowds had begun their inevitable journey toward the local inns and taverns for the evening respite. The smell of fresh cooked meat and foaming ale filled the air at this time of day, pungent enough to almost drown out the scent of fish and sweaty bodies in from a long day's work. Bell on the stage of one such inn, the musicians behind her turning and strumming their instruments and preparing for the next song. The room was loud as one might expect. Mugs thunked against oak tables, men's voices laughed and argued around the warmly lit room as the taste of brew was fresh on their tongue and their appetites wetted for the roasted meat and vegetables that was surely on the way. This particular inn was supposedly well known for its meat pies, something that Bell had no real desire to try herself.
She wore her full dancer attire, colorful silks, and all. Every minor motion caused the numerous bells to jingle, an effect that the Rathari quite liked. Her long ears moved from side to side, trying to take in all the sounds but it was simply too much. A voice behind her made her turn, and she smiled at the man with the stringed instrument.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
She gave him a nod and a quick wave, that being enough to signal her readiness. He nodded in return, and he passed the word to the rest of the group on stage. Taking a deep breath Bell relaxed her shoulders, wiggling her fingers and toes as she stilled her body to near-perfect motionlessness. She felt like a harp string that was over tightened, ready to snap at the slightest pluck. The next few seconds wait felt like days, but she felt the vibrations of the drum through her feet as the music began.
Each pound of the drum felt like a second heartbeat. The sound vibrated through her body, making her shiver as she bounced ever so slightly on her toes with her arms held out to her side. The motion made her clothing jingle, and around the room, people began to turn to see the performance begin. The flute joined in next, high pitched and wavering, long, almost sad notes that made the hair on Bell's body stand on end. As if in response her fur shimmered, a deep blue spreading from the crown of her head down to the tips of her toes. That made those who were only absently watching turn and look closer. The Shimmer Hare were not really common in Atinaw, but they were at least well known enough for some in the crowd to recognize her for what she was. Along with the bouncing, Bell added a slight sway to her motion, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she let her shoulders relax further and her arms swing freely. This harmony of sound and motion continued for a few seconds longer, reaching a crest. Then, suddenly, the strings joined and the performance began in full.
The notes from the stings were quick, filled with energy that spurred Bell into motion. Her head snapped up and to the side, her relaxed posture suddenly shifting to alertness. The music filled her, burned through her body and mind and set her blood to boil as she let her steps take over. Her feet pounded the stage in time with the music, hip and arms swaying so that the jingle of bells hit with each high note of the flute. The thudding in her chest could have been her heart or the drums, either way it felt like Bell was alive. She threw herself into the act of dance, bending and twisting her body into sweeping bows and twisting turns. This was what Bell lived for. More than anything it was for this moment that she woke up each and every day. The music, the motion, the dancing and acrobatics. All of it together made her who she was, and no amount of magic could come close to matching the waves of excitement she felt every time she stepped onto a stage.
The crowds at first seemed unsure of how to react. After a few notes, however, some in the back began to clap, a motion which was quickly taken up by the rest of the crowd as the people at the tables took up what was a popular tune in this area. It made Bell smile. Her body felt light, responding smoothly and easily to her merest thought. She was not the best dancer, or the most flexible, but what Reimar had always complimented her on was her passion for the art. Bellmari did not perform a dance, she lived it heart and soul.
As she moved Bell felt the vibrations of her magic filling her, and she could hear the symphonies of the crowd as if their notes were the background to the music being played on stage. She noticed, with a sense of wonder, that as they performed the melodies of those who watched and seemed to enjoy the act almost matched the rhythm and pace that they were setting. It was inspiring, and suddenly Bell felt she was not just dancing to the music of bards, but to the music of people's souls. They were reaching the climax, and the heat of her muscles burned her from within as she felt the exertion begin to grow. In the back of her mind, she knew she needed to stretch more, to practice harder, so that if the time ever came she could dance all night without stop.
As quick as it began the song suddenly ended, and Bell paused her motion in a bow with one hand sweeping forward and the other out. Her chest heaved with each breath, but the smile on her face was enough to light up the room. Her very soul vibrated from the joy of the action, and though she had stoped her body still vibrated with energy. She did not have to wait long, for the crowd began to clap and cheer, whistling their approval more for the minstrels than Bell herself. The Rabbit didn't really care. Her fur shimmered and shifted between blues and yellows in quick succession, signaling the girl's pure joy and excitement.
Straightening Bell rested a hand on her chest, breathing in deeply and slowing her heartrate. Turning to leave Bell caught the bards eye as she passed, and he gave her a thumbs up and a smile as if to say 'well done'. Returning the smile Bell stepped off the stage, circling the open space of the Inn and heading toward a table in the back where she sat down with a sigh.
"That was a good performance." a female voice said. A mug of liquid was set in front of the Rathari, which she accepted gratefully.
"Thank you. I missed a few steps though, and I was a bit slow on the timing in the second half." taking a sip Bell grimaced at the overly sweet ale.
"You always say that." the waitress said with a laugh. She was an older woman, pretty if not beautiful, with just the tiniest bit of grey beginning at the roots of her hair. She leaned forward and nodded at the mug, "What do you think?"
"It's..." Bell thought for a moment, and then took another sip. The second taste was not quite as intense, and she noticed a slight hint of honey beneath the sweetness, "Better than the fig whiskey."
It was the other woman's turn to grimace as she straightened, "That batch was a mistake my poor husband had the unfortunate luck to stumble into. He still claims it is the best he ever brewed, but what can you do?" she shrugged, "I love the man, but sometimes his head is thicker than frozen honey."
Licking her lips Bell handed the now empty mug to the woman and laughed, "Frozen honey is good in its own way. Don't be too hard on him. At least he seems to be getting better."
"Just a little." the laugh was returned with extra vigor. Turning to leave the waitress called over her shoulder, "Let me know if you want anything to eat. You've got two more dances tonight. Gotta keep your strength up."
"I will." Bell waved before sitting back in her seat, her heart finally slowing to its resting tempo. The excitement was still there, but it was measured and controlled. Just 2 more dances... Honestly, if she had her way she would dance until the dawn of the next day.
"Maybe one day... If Lyss ever lets me near a stage again after this city." the rabbit thought ruefully.
