Duck kept on moving through the forest, though her feet were beginning to get a little sore. Once again she came to a clearing, but this time instead of a small cottage there was a large building that towered above the trees. It somewhat resembled the school however was definitely unique in it's own way.

Duck ran up to one of the windows and peered in. Inside the building was a huge hall with large glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The hall was absolutely filled with cats of all colours and sizes. Each stood up on two legs. The men wore suits and top hats and the women wore flowing dresses. Some of them stood at the side of the hall, sipping some sort of drink out of champagne flutes and talking amongst themselves whereas the rest stood in two lines in the centre of the hall. One row of toms and the other of lady cats. In the corner a band began to play and each row bowed to the other.

It was at this moment that Duck's stomach began to growl just as she noticed a large long table set up with party food. She snuck around the corner and managed to find what looked like a front door. It was slightly open as two toms were outside smoking something that smelt dreadful. She decided to take her chance and duck snuck in to the building. It didn't take too long to find the hall where all the cats were thanks to the music. She ran up to the table when no one was looking and managed to grab some sort of fish pastry from it before ducking under the table cloth to eat.

The tune soon changed to a different one so she stuck her head out from under the table to see what was going on. The two rows of cats where back in their lines facing each other. They bowed to their partners across the way and then took their hands. They each moved together to twirl around clockwise once then anti clockwise. Then they moved back and held paws with the cats on either side in the line and each line moved forward as one then back in time to the music.

Duck tried to muffle a quack as Mr Cat, her old ballet instructor appeared, skipping down the aisle paw in paw with a beautiful white cat wearing a sparkling pink dress. They both went up and down the aisle in perfect synch then up once more when they broke off and skipped back to the position at the end of the aisle.

First Ebine then Mr Cat? She knew for a fact that he should be happy back in Gold Crown town, living his life as a normal cat with his mate and kittens. She had just seen him in the window of Mrs Binka, a sweet old lady who lived opposite of Fakir the other day. Yet there he was in front of her, dancing his heart out in a fantastical cat ceilidh.

She nibbled upon her pastry and watched the cats twirl as the reel playing grew faster and faster. A cat in the band played a peculiar fiddle altered to accommodate a cat's paw and his face was screwed up in concentration. Finally with three long final strokes of the bow, the dance was over and the dancers bowed to their partners and retired to their seats to rest and chat before the next dance. A few headed towards the table to get refreshments too, so Duck ducked back under the table cloth to avoid getting seen.

However it seemed like it was in vain as she heard the noise of someone else sneaking under the table. She turned around to see and began backing away slowly when she saw who had joined her. It was a small ginger kitten with incredibly fluffy fur that someone had clearly tried and failed to straighten out. He wore a blue bow tie around his neck dotted with a little pawprint pattern, and a little shirt with half the buttons undone. He honestly looked like he had been pulled backwards through a shuck a few times before being blow dried dry.

In his grubby paws he held a little china plate (decorated with blue fishes) that was overflowing with the different nibble from above them. He hadn't noticed Duck yet instead focusing on the big plate of snacks which he began shoving into his mouth.

Duck continued to back away but stopped whenever she noticed that the kitten was crying. She looked away for a minute as she contemplated what she should do, but eventually decided that the right thing to do was to see if and how she could help this little kitten.

She walked over to him and when he was too absorbed in eating to notice she let out a small quack and pecked him gently on his foot.

He looked up and said with a wobbly voice, "You're a duck!"

She nodded and sat down beside him.

The kitten didn't seem bothered or shocked to see that Duck clearly understood him, but Duck guessed that probably not much was strange to a walking, talking kitten in the middle of a fairy tale woods.

"I'm Winston," said the little kitten, "What's your name?"

Duck quacked in reply which Winston seemed to find terribly funny.

"Your name is Quack? That's a funny name!"

Duck wasn't too amused with her new nickname, however she was glad to see that the kitten seemed to be cheering up a little. When he reached out to pet her, she took care not to flinch away and let him.

"Would you like a biscuit? I think I took to many, Maisy said I need to not eat as much."

He took a biscuit from the plate and held it out to Duck. Admittedly she was still very hungry so she carefully pulled it out of his hand and began to peck at it.

As she ate Winston talked.

"You're really hungry! Me too. Biscuits are the best!"

He giggled, but looked up in horror when Mr Cat called out "Winston! Come here!"

Winston held one finger in front of his lips and said, "Shhh! He'll hear us!"

Duck stopped eating just in time as he picked her up and ran out from under the table. Duck could stand being petted, it actually felt quite nice, but she could not and would not stand for being carried about under arm like a rugby ball. As soon as the boy stopped, Duck squirmed free from his grasp and flapped down to the floor.

Winston ran back to the doorway and as quietly, but as quickly as he could he closed the door, and climbed under the bed.

"Come on Quack! Dad will find us if you stay there!"

Duck hurried under the bed. She got there just in time as Mr Cat stuck his head through the door and looked around the room. He clearly saw nothing as he turned back and Duck could hear him say, "He's not in there! Where else could that boy be?"

The two held their breaths until they could hear the door click shut once more. Duck let out a big sigh. When she looked to Winston she could see that tears had gathered in his eyes once more.

She wanted so much to ask what was wrong, but it was clear that the boy was not going to understand anything that she said.

"If Daddy finds me, he'll want me to dance," sobbed the boy rubbing his eyes with his paws.

Duck cocked her head at that questioningly.

Winston must have noticed because he continued, "I love to dance, but I'm so bad at it, Maisy told me so. She said it was because I was so fat and clumsy, and I want to make Daddy proud, but if I don't dance well, I don't think he'll love me anymore!"

At this Duck's heart began to break. She knew that that couldn't be true, but she did not know how to tell him this. She put a wing on his knee and looked up at him.

Then she had an idea. She was not sure about it in the least, and she hadn't done it in so long. She remembered Mr Cat's saying "Take a day off you will know, two days off and your peers will know, three days off and the audience will know," but shook it off. This kitten needed her help and this was the only way that she could possibly help him.

She shakily raised to the toes of her webbed feet and stretched out her wings above her, wincing a little when she felt the tightness come back. She made a small clockwise movement above her head, the mime for dancing, or at least the best she could do it.

The kitten looked at her in a funny manner.

"You can dance?," he asked incredulously, "But you're a duck Quack!"

She nodded and quacked once the affirmative, finding it quite difficult to maintain the position from the long break she took. He almost took her wing, but backed away, the fur on his head standing on end.

"I don't know Quack, I'm a really terrible dancer, I don't think you want to dance with me."

Duck looked into his eyes and suddenly she was back at Gold Crown academy in Mr Cat's ballet beginners class, being asked by Rue to dance a pas des deux with her in Mythos place. She remembered how vehemently she protested and how her friends had laughed at her predicament. She remembered how proud she was at the end of her performance when Fakir had clapped for her, and then how disappointed and hurt she was when Mr Cat took such delight in dropping her to the probationary class for seemingly no reason what so ever. She remembered how much she loved ballet, yet hated to dance because of how terrible she felt she must have looked to her peers. She knew exactly how this poor kitten felt.

Duck relaxed and then repeated the motion again while quacking this time. She was going to dance with him. It had been too long and this child needed help.

Hesitantly Winston took her wing into his paw and let her lead him into a clumsy pas de deux. If someone had walked into that room in that moment they would have been very confused as to what they were looking at but to the Duck and the kitten they felt as graceful as swans gliding across a lake, each putting their heart into their dance.

Duck, familiar with the many mistakes one could make while dancing as she had been corrected so many times herself was able to guide him through each part of the dance. There was no rhyme or rhythm to the dance, and it followed no structure to speak of. There were many moves that were physically impossible so they made up new ones that they could.

"I'm just so scared," admitted Winston as they danced, "Daddy is so good at dancing and I think he wants me to be that good too, but I don't think I can dance like he can."

Duck wasn't able to reply, but did her best to covey her answer through her dance.

"Your father loves to dance and I'm sure as long as you dance your best he will be proud of you because he loves you so much. You have no reason to be embarrassed, as long as you love to dance, people will be able to tell."

If only she was able to tell her past self this. That as long as she loved to dance and did her best that was all that mattered. Now that she was unable to dance in the same way as she could when she was a girl, she recognised how much time she had wasted worrying about things that in the end had often not mattered so much. It was always the moments when she let herself relax and dance the way she truly wanted that she felt the happiest and it hurt her heart thinking of all that she had missed out on because she let herself believe that she couldn't do something. Now the chance was over, and she would never be able to dance the same way again.

But at least she could still dance, she admitted to herself. She had let herself believe that just because she would never be able to take part in lessons or dance en pointe or dance in the particular way a human could that it was not worth continuing even though it had brought her so much sadness to stop. Even if she was fated to remain a simple duck forever, which she sincerely hoped she wasn't, it was at that second that she vowed to never quit dancing again.

She had to stop before long. Her wing began to twinge even when not fully stretched out, and a duck's stamina is no where near as great as a girls, but thankfully whenever she looked at Winston she could see that her plan had worked somewhat.

There was a confidence and determination in his eyes that had not been there before.

Winston's ear twitched as he heard his father walk down the hall and turn the knob to his room. Duck scooted back under the bed but was not joined by Winston. Instead when Mr Cat came into the room, he ran up to him and gave him a big hug around his waist.

Mr Cat bent down and said, "I was so worried, thank goodness that you are okay! Your sister told me what she told you and she apologised for all of it. Did you really think that I would stop loving you if you didn't dance well?"

Winston gave an embarrassed nod as Mr Cat pulled him in closer.

"You never worry about that! There is nothing that you can do that would make me stop loving you. I love the way that you dance because it reminds me of you and all the things that I love about you! And you're a beginner! Someday you might become an amazing dancer, and I know you have it in you, because when you dance, you dance with your heart. And if you are still very worried about how you dance do you know what you need to do?"

"Practice?" Winston asked.

"Exactly!"

Mr Cat picked his son up from the ground and tapped him on the nose.

"We're almost done for the night, do you want to join us for the last dance? You don't have to if you don't want to."

Winston threw his paws up into the air and shouted "Yes! I'd love to!"

And with that Mr Cat and his son left the room to re-join the crowd of cats that were gathered in the hall leaving the door slightly ajar. Duck, once she was sure the coast was clear, opened the door and made her way back outside. She waddled all the way around back to the large windows of the ball room.

Through the glass she could see Winston standing beside his father and the rest of his family. Another kitten approached him and seemed to be apologising to him for something. They seemed to make up as they gave each other a hug and ran off to join the rows of dancers paw in paw. It was a happy ending. Duck was glad. He deserved a happy ending.

She watched as the band led them through a Dashing White Sergeant that blended into a fast paced jig that made her feel dizzy just watching. It seemed like all was going well.

But something inside of Duck prompted her to scan through the crowd. At the side, beside the refreshments table clapping in time to the music stood the cat from Ebine's cottage, dressed in a top hat and a suit with a gold pocket watch chain hanging from it. Just as Duck was about to turn away and leave, his head turned to look straight at her with his piercing golden eyes. It seemed like time was about to stop. It definitely slowed down. The cat grinned a completely unnerving grin at Duck that sent shivers down her spine and her feathers to puff up in fear.

Without a second thought, Duck turned away and fled back into the forest, not even turning back to see the building fade back into mist.

A/N

Had a bit of an issue and got completely drawn into planning and character analysis while writing this chapter. I'm trying to write a little more consciously to make it easier to rewrite when it comes to it if you understand what I'm trying to say which you probably don't because I can barely English!

I'm really pleased with the concept of this particular chapter if not a hundred percent pleased with the actual execution. If anyone's reading this, I wonder if you can guess what sort of thing is going on in this Forest because I just figured it out a few chapters ago myself!

You might be thinking "Why would you be writing about a ceilidh when Princess Tutu is all about ballet?" and you are right! It's such a weird thing to include and I'm going to be honest with you and admit that it's because of how funny "cat ceilidh" sounds. Got to love that alliteration. It's partly also because I wanted a scene with lots of cats having craic dancing and no matter how brilliant ballet is I don't think it's the sort of thing ever done as like a party instead of a performance.

For anyone who can't picture what a ceilidh is, it's like the Scottish version of the dances in Pride and Prejudice. The main difference is that ceilidhs are much more craic, a lot of people go home absolutely of their rockers and at least one person is injured at the end. I play ceilidh music on the fiddle, but since they're not popular in my corner of the world I've never played for one before. Fun Fact! We don't have ceilidh's where I am because ministers began to preach that dancing was sinful and bad so to get around it people began to hold socials instead, a phenomenon that has continued to this day. A social is basically a ceilidh that turns the various dances into games. For example a popular game involves seats being placed in the centre of the room like in a bus where one end is closed off. Each person is paired with a partner and they cannot let go of their partners hand for the duration of the game. You start by sitting on a seat in the bus and when the music starts you get off of the seat and run around the bus clockwise. When the music stops you must run to get back into the bus through the opening and sit down. Each turn seats are taken away. If you don't sit down in time or let go of your partners hand you are out of the game. It's hilarious and can get quite violent.

This A/N is so long, sorry! My dad's a historian so I know a bit too much about the small bits of forgotten history of my country and like to talk about it too much