There once was a dancer. She was a ballet dancer--on the outside. She wore pink toe shoes, braided her hair up and pinned it in a bun, as well as donned black leotards along with pink tights. She practiced, too. A lot. Sometimes she practiced until it was dark, late at night. Sometimes she practiced, and when she was done her toes would bleed after taking off her toe shoes. Gosh, did those moments hurt. Tears bubbling, and filling her eyes, brimming over her eye lids, and slowly trickling down her face...
But inside, she was something else. She wasn't a ballet dancer, or a woman, but a black shadow that took shape into a cat. Into a big, black cat. So sleek, sinewy, and valiant. She sauntered in the sun, on the plains of Africa. Her head held regally. She was a feline queen.
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