I keep dancing on my own

Her tempests of anger were met with appropriate fear and quivering on the part of the alchemist. At one point he let feathers furl up his arms and into his curls as if he meant to take off into the air. Appearances though, such as they were, could be deceiving, and Remi didn't doubt for an instant that there was a kernel of truth in each of those expressions. With a bright grin that was soon swamped by long and shiny feline-teeth, Remi chuckled—a much throatier sound, indeed like a lion might make—before laughing. "It is a date. Or..a duel? A spar? Whatever it is—" Letting her twirl out to the end of his reach, he flashed Melita another smile. "—I look forward to it." Just then Aoife began to squawk, apparently bored of all of this nonsense. Ceasing her prancing Isla craned her neck about to nose at the infant who bopped her indignantly in the muzzle. With a sigh, Remi let Melita's hand go and reached for Aoife. "If you know of any who translates baby, I would appreciate that." He replied with a good natured chuckle. REMI Traded my soul to free my mind, "can I go back to being blind?" I ask myself one too many times