Olivia danced like a liquid flame, like beauty itself.

Anna admitted only to herself the full extent of her jealousy, though. Of course, there was the casual remark about how she was jealous of her skills, but no one could understand the power behind those words.

She never really wanted to be a merchant. Then, Anna realized she had to get over it and move on like she always did; and that was it, she supposed. She was always moving, rapidly, in the blink of an eye, leaving time for nothing else.

So in that moment, she just sat and watched the pink fire, dancing amongst the pink petals drifting away.

She would keep moving, and Olivia would, too. Like usual.