I sat in the bar of the Resort alone.

Not because I lacked company — they were all watching me. Whispering. Staring. Holding their drinks too tight when my eyes met theirs.

But I didn’t come here for them.

The music was strange. Primitive. Repetitive. And yet… it did something to me. It made my fingers tap without permission. It made my chest tighten in a way I hadn’t felt since before the stars remembered my name.

They were dancing.

That’s what they called it — “dancing.”
No formation. No prayer. No power behind it. Just... movement. Joy for joy’s sake.

I watched them glide, stumble, laugh, collide. The messiness of it made it beautiful.

Then I looked down.

My hooves. Hardened, heavy — built for battle, not this. Could they even step in time? Could I twirl? Would the floor hold me?

I curled my tail in thought. A goddess doesn’t doubt. But tonight… I questioned.

Would they welcome me if I tried? Or would they freeze, eyes wide, music paused, wondering why something like me dared enter their rhythm?

I didn’t move.
Not yet.

But I smiled.

Maybe tomorrow... I’ll dance.