audette rousseau

There was something undeniably splendid in twisting her lithe physique into those delicate positions with the warmth of the noon day sun on her skin and the musical sound of birds and laughter in the very air that surrounded her. It was a tranquil moment for the young ballerina, the likes of which prompted a warm simper to blossom upon her fair features. It hardly mattered to the ballerina that she lacked her proper footwear for such a spontaneous practice. The girl merely resigning herself to the limitations of her sneakers as she moved with such fluidity from one position to the next. Ballet meant everything to Audette. It was a passion that rose about the simple grueling labor of every day work. She enjoyed the way it felt, to move with such precision through those positions. Her hands moved through the air with simple ease at each relevé, only to pause with her front foot parallel to her body before her, and her back foot slightly angled behind. It was that bse posture so much steps came from and truly, her footwork almost felt as second nature as walking itself was. Her arms swung around her petite frame as she rose, once again into that altogether familiar relevé, her body spun with such distinct control in her pirouette only to land with the same carefulness before her back foot rose, her hands fluttering like butterflies as she reached upwards towards the ceiling of the gazebo.

The young woman was so intent upon her own movements that she hardly realized she was no longer alone. She was so used to the studious eyes of others on her petite figure as she danced that such an invasion hardly raised any internal alarms within her, until that soprano voice reached out to her with a childlike awe. Audette blinked, glancing towards the origin of that voice only to drop in an peculiarly composed fashion back to both feet. "Merci, ma chérie." She uttered, her native tongue flowed naturally from her lips as her clove brown eyes observed the young woman. She was wholly aware of the sharpness of the young child's cheek bones, the pointed glimpse of her ears were revealed by the golden hair that so mirrored Audette's own. The young girl was a fae, of that Audette was certain. More importantly, however, she was the first fae that Audette had met within the entirety of the busy metropolis. Even so, a warm simper settled upon her features as her head tilted inquisitively to the side, hardly inattentive to the young girl's perfect pronunciation of that ballet term. It was a rarity for someone so young, though her French accent required some work, not that she faulted the child.

"Do you dance?" She inquired, moving slightly out of the center of the gazeebo, only to gesture to the middle of it. "Would you like to try?" Audette had, admittedly, never tried to teach any other those moves she so invested so much of her time to. She had assisted, naturally, with some of the younger girls, lifting their legs and perfecting their positioning with a gentle nudge here and there but a teacher she was not. Still, it was nice to share that passion with another, and children were so often more game than adults to engage in those acts they might, perhaps, fail in. She had little notion, naturally, of how this young girl might have viewed ballet, if it was a true interest or just a passing fancy but it hardly mattered to the ballerina in the slightest. "Oh, pardon me, I forgot to ask, what is your name? I am Audette." She added in a very cherry fashion, the young French girl equally as willing to make friends regardless of the age.