Skye is dancing.
Liege leads.
It works perfectly, despite his small stature.
The Mistress stares in open astonishment.
Skye hasn’t danced a step in almost five years.
Her waltz is flawless.
The diamonds on her character shoes glint in the studio light as they glance off The Master’s broken limbs.
Hairline fractures.
For now.
His hands clutch tufts of Hedge’s feathers.
Neither are completely incapacitated as of yet; the applicable phrase is “in hot water.”
Skeeter’s been bound & gagged- he’s old news.
Swivel will be his cellmate.
All characters accounted for, the dance whirls on.
Skye is has been will be
^ dances.
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