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[color=9df7ff]Cordelia Whittaker[/color]
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As Nicole led Cordelia through a jauntier passage, the azure haired girl lost herself for a moment in their dance. He teeth raked the inside of her bottom lip as her new roommate effortlessly glided along the dance floor. The act made Cordelia yearn to discover how Nicole moved on the battlefield as well. They neared towards the end of the song, both panting, holding a pose as the band performed their final resounding notes and those who were not dancing clapped for the band and the dancers left on the floor. Cordelia’s chest heaved as an innocuous smile hung on her lips, her eyes never leaving Nicole’s. 

It may’ve been something of an over-the-top gesture. But Cordelia had learned early to take pride in every action she performed. Whether it was how she dressed herself in the morning, or dancing in front of a crowd. You had your pride, she had been told once, or you had nothing. Before long, however two new figures made their presences known.

Hairs raised on the nape of Cordelia’s neck as she felt a light touch trickle up her shoulder. The girl was taller than Cordelia, with eyes like almonds and a flowing black river of hair that ended pointedly near her upper back. She clearly spoke to Cordelia, but a buzzing sensation left from Nicole’s and this girl’s touch filled her senses to the brim, keeping the words from her. Cordelia looked down at his hand he held out, as if he was offering pomegranate seeds. Cordelia looked back at Nicole, who seemed to be gracefully accepting the offer of a long-haired, scarred boy opposite Cordelia’s would-be dance partner. His dark eyes weren’t dissimilar from the girl’s, in fact, they could’ve been twins save for a few key differences. 

Nicole dexterously spun around Coredelia, taking the hand of the girl before Cordelia could, but neither party seemed to mind much at all. The olive-skinned gentleman held his hand out to her all the same.

Cordelia nodded chastely and took the boy's hand gingerly in her own. Her demure attitude, however, belied her current thought process. The hair on her neck stayed raised, something felt odd about this. She wasn’t sure what, they certainly appeared to be human and not some voidsent abomination. Cordelia thought back to a hunting lesson she was partial to once morning at the estate at which she had been raised and worked her entire life. Would you prefer to hunt a tiger, or a wolf? Of course, each of the student’s provided educated answers as to why a wolf was the safer prey, a much lighter beast who relied on a pack to successfully hunt for itself. The instructor had nodded sagely, before explaining that each student was right in a classroom, but wrong in the field of a hunt. A tiger, as powerful as it was, could be backed into a corner, he explained. It fought alone, so it died alone. But to hunt a wolf was to constantly second guess yourself, wondering if others were behind you.

“Are you okay?” the boy asked Cordelia. The ars magi stifled her visage’s desire to contort in surprise and instead forced a curt smile. 

[color=9df7ff]“I’m excellent,”[/color] she responded. She let herself be pulled into her partner’s embrace, tightening the distance between the both of them and allowing her hands to find his upperback, subtly feeling for a weapon the boy may’ve hidden on him. [color=9df7ff]“Please, lead the way.”[/color]