25th, Summer 518AV
There were days where dancing felt more like a chore than his life's joy. Moments where his love for the art was clouded, a lapse in the flickering of passionate flames that he swore would never cease to burn. An eclipse of passion and mortal weakness that shrouded his whole world in the dark.
Dancing was a form of expression that, due to its ephemerality, Haneht found was indescribable and conveyable through only experiencing and feeling it. It reached where words did not, painted a thousand pictures in a series of forms and motions. Inspiration was its lifeblood, that, recently, the Eypharian found himself drained of.
Being a performer was not as easy and glorius as it appeared, and he had been well aware of that when he first entered the Ethereal Ballet, young, tiger-eyed and hot–blooded, all too ready to show the world what he was made of. In Ahnatep, perhaps, his blood and background might have played a role in his progress and opportunities, but beyond Eyktol, where Haneht Re Ahnatep was merely an exotic name and not an elite, Gilded citizen, the brunet had been thrust into a reality so different from his. On his first day, he remembered the moment so vividly, he had been denied a position in the corps. Brutally brought down to earth, when he was told bluntly that he lacked the precise finesse of ballet, the soft elegance and subtle control. That, and the basic foundations that he had been arrogant enough to presume he would be able to learn in a short span of time.
In this first year as part of the corps, his first show had been a success, built upon many trialing hours of practice and buckets of blood and sweat. From that, he had planned to carry on strong, having already set the foundation for his anticipated ascension. With the performance of Syna and Leth's romance under his belt, he had expected that the next would be similarly smooth, if not more. The Okomo's Stride was more vigorous, more wild and loose than it's predeccesor had been, perfectly suited to Haneht, whose background in Semhu would surely shine through in this next performance.
Or so he had thought.
When the time of rehearsals were upon them again, Haneht suddenly found himself lagging behind the rest. His dancing was fine, decent, merely in need of a bit of polishing and fine-tuning. Rather, the casanova was having trouble fully commiting to it. Something was missing, but whatever it was eluded him. It annoyed him to no end, and with the passing of time grew to gnaw at him, to the point where the others were beginning to notice his lack of focus. For all the steps and transitions he had memorized and practiced to no end, the performance was still incomplete.
"I simply don't get it. What's wrong? I've nailed all the steps. I'm landing all the leaps."[/b] He had pulled Deina aside once practice was over, frustrated and tired.
"You're not telling the story right, Han."
"What do you mean I'm not- It's a goat in it's natural habitat, Dei, what story is there? Am I supposed to gnaw on a tin can as I dance? Is that it?"
"Don't give me that sass. You're usually so weirdly imaginative, yet you can't even properly perform the story of a mere goat!"
"You told me to stop asking absurd questions about what poultry thought! Now you want me to pretend I'm a piece of mutton!"
The small woman slapped a hand over his mouth,bearinig down on him with a menacing scowl as she hissed, "Don't call them that. Look, I know you're a foreigner- you little shyke!" The offending hand was ripped away from his face when the impish youth daringly flicked his tongue across her palm. Hastily wiping his contamination off on the fabric of his blouse, Deina wrinkled her nose, and her junior mirrored it. "They're sacred. You know that. That's why there's a whole dance dedicated to them. You know the story, but you don't know why you're telling it. Understandable, since you weren't raised here. I know you like them, but I think you don't appreciate them like everyone else does. You certainly dont respect them." Haneht raised a finger to protest against the accusations, but was silenced when Deina simply stated, "You asked me if Okomo meat was an upper class delicacy when you first came here. And hug and kiss them when some clearly dont like you - remember how one kicked you so hard you bruised for days?" It was baffling how he had yet to get in trouble with the Shinya for his pestering of the creatures. She understood he meant no harm, but surely there were better ways to show his affections.
Alright. No more telling Dei of all the exciting details of his life, decided the brunet. She could obtain her daily dose of gossip elsewhere - he was arming her with too much against him.
"Alright. Fine. Suppose you expect me to go put myself in their hooves then?" Quipped Haneht, who was met with a careless shrug. "If that's what it takes for you to fix it."
And Haneht should've known by then, that everything Deina said had to be taken with a great pinch of salt, but he was far too eager to amend the situation, and frankly found the idea rather feasible. By hook or by crook, Haneht would have to find a way to perfect the dance before the opening show.
