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[color=9df7ff]Cordelia Whittaker[/color]
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Cordelia noted the boy’s finely tuned precision, his form reminded her of her instructor from when she was a child. Always leading to a point, but letting Cordelia perform a flourish in order to make it look as though she had been in charge the entire time. Her hands gracefully spun in his as she twirled outwards into the center of the dance floor. Her eyes flitted to her teammates, all dancing with wolves in their own rights. Cordelia felt the hot breeze of dance floor wind brush through her cerulean locks as she spun back in place, towards the boy.

[color=9df7ff]“That’s correct,”[/color] she affirms as he inquires with a voice at a low static hum. His voice isn’t a growl, though it took Cordelia’s knowing a man who growled constantly to recognize the minute differences. This voice was just perceptible enough to be heard, but over the live band and the constant chattering and laughter, that was a decision and careful tuning of his own voice. His compliments washed over Cordelia, a foreign feeling as the kind words and concern caught the once maid in surprise. Unlike the low growl of an angered man, Cordelia was not used to such niceties and couldn’t perceive the truthfulness to what he was saying. Her hands drifted from his waist to his neck and chin, holding him as if she was to kiss him like a lover. [color=9df7ff]“That’s very kind of you to say,”[/color] she said, gazing into his eyes. [color=9df7ff]“I’m not concerned about, which team I’m placed on.”[/color] Her face came close to his, as the song began to slow and she embraced him, her hands pulling the back of his head onto her shoulder, holding him there for a moment. 

The song picked back up and Cordelia once more let him lead, pulling her into a dip as he looked down at her. [color=9df7ff]“The tales we tell children are often of warning,”[/color] Cordelia said. Looking into his eyes from her vantage parallel to the ground. [color=9df7ff]“I should hope mine isn’t that.”[/color]