Mistoffelees watched as the dancing continued to increase in speed. Fur flew and hearts raced. The beats of the music filled the air and his eyes blurred with all the colours of the rainbow. With a leap that seemed to be fuelled with fire, he sprang into the mass of twirling bodies and released every inch of himself into the dance.
This is when he lived, when they all lived!
The life that poured from each cat swam around them and flowed in and out of the others, blending their thoughts and their dreams. Eyes met eyes and pulses pounded.
Then, oh so slowly, it began to fade. Slowly, carefully and with a measure of grace to outshine any falling snowflake, the swirling body fanned out and calmed. Each still dazzled by the intensity of the Ball, they separated and relaxed into the warmth of each other. As a group they danced and as a group they rested, looking out into the night, deep in the thoughts of life and love.
Then she stood. Like Helen of Troy, she seemed to still the hearts of all who looked upon her. Mistoffelees' eyes shone in the night as the object of his deepest desires began to sing. The words were insignificant, only the sound of her voice, the melody and rhythm of the harmony, mattered to him.
Each cat remained as statues listening as people should, with their ears, not their eyes. The song continued as invisible music slipped around them and enveloped their senses. All had experienced this time.
A moment when instinct overtook reason and the urge of expression rises up and the mind succumbs to the Song of the Night.
This is when he lived, when they all lived!
The life that poured from each cat swam around them and flowed in and out of the others, blending their thoughts and their dreams. Eyes met eyes and pulses pounded.
Then, oh so slowly, it began to fade. Slowly, carefully and with a measure of grace to outshine any falling snowflake, the swirling body fanned out and calmed. Each still dazzled by the intensity of the Ball, they separated and relaxed into the warmth of each other. As a group they danced and as a group they rested, looking out into the night, deep in the thoughts of life and love.
Then she stood. Like Helen of Troy, she seemed to still the hearts of all who looked upon her. Mistoffelees' eyes shone in the night as the object of his deepest desires began to sing. The words were insignificant, only the sound of her voice, the melody and rhythm of the harmony, mattered to him.
Each cat remained as statues listening as people should, with their ears, not their eyes. The song continued as invisible music slipped around them and enveloped their senses. All had experienced this time.
A moment when instinct overtook reason and the urge of expression rises up and the mind succumbs to the Song of the Night.