Pale morning light hair glimmers within the confines of her ponytail as the sunlight slinks into the gazebo in quiet streams. Maeve only seems to grow less cautious as the blonde woman seems to physically express her joy towards the violet eyed child. She watches as those hands fly up in a moment of happiness and it causes a smile to stretch across the pale planes of Maeve's face. Although Maeve's French was limited, her ballet teacher had ensured that the children in her class were at least able to speak it conversationally. 'Dance is not a sport, but an art, which requires extra work on our part.' That is what her instructor used to say, for when the children left her ballet school they were not only beautiful dancers, but educated ones as well. And Maeve could not be more thrilled to have found another dancer within the confines of the busy city, the pale child having not seen another dancer in quite some time, it prompts a soft smile upon her face. "I have been dancing since I can remember," the golden haired girl says dreamily, the sunshine girl speaking only the truth, it had not been long after she took those first wobbling steps that she was then at the ballet barre and learning how to tondu, plie, and battement.

The woman moves away, giving Maeve space and the child gives her another smile, that sunlight now illuminating that golden hair. Maeve notices the way the woman's eyes eagerly await Maeve to dance, interested in seeing what the child had to offer. These actions, girl with golden hair, was certainly not accustomed to. The tender hearted child was used to being either shooed away to go and dance by herself, or, if they decided to humor the girl, they would sit there with glazed over looks, checking their watches or their phones for the time, or to see if they had a much more interesting message or phone call to attend to rather than watch the blonde fairy perform for them. And so she would turn and turn, a smile on her face that would slowly fall into a saddened frown as those pale tresses whipped around, following the movement of her petite body.

So she flashes another smile towards the woman before running her hand briefly over those pale tendrils tied back into a sleek, neat ponytail. And as she dances, the sounds tinkling from the girl's lips only further encourage Maeve's performance. If possible she seemed to rise higher in those all red converse, turning faster, concentrating more on her spotting, legs becoming straighter, toes pointing harder. When she finishes, Maeve is laugh along with her, her pale locks now coming to rest calmly after twirling around after her petite, slender frame. Her high soprano laughter spills out from the golden haired child's lip, expressing her joy for having danced for the woman. The tiny little thing offers the woman a curtsey in a silent thank you for having watched the fae child perform. She laughs softly with the blonde, once more growing shy, always having been a humble and modest child despite her natural talent.

It is then the pale cream haired child dares to admit her dream, her heart's desire, her greatest wish to the complete stranger, her aspiration to become a ballerina. The pale girl listens dutifully to the words of wisdom she is offered, violet eyes remaining on the woman. The pretty little thing harnesses a wide smile then when she finishes speaking. "I could invite you to come and watch me dance, or we could dance together," she says enthusiastically, so excited by either prospect.

"Well, it is lovely to meet you, Audette," the creamy haired fae says, Maeve extending a fair skinned hand towards her, remembering her manners even in spite of all the excitement that had just occurred. But that face seems to only light up even more so when Maeve learns exactly who the ballerina was. And an invitation to the Nutcracker? How exciting! Maeve was certainly grateful that she came to the park today. "Oh, I would love that," the creamy haired child says with a tinkling giggle of excitement. "Next year I will be nine and I am going to audition to be Clara," she says, expressing her absolute dream role. She then moves a few steps closer to Audette, pulling with the lightest of touches onto her shirt, a clear indication the cream haired child wanted Audette to shift downwards to her level and when she does, Maeve cups that petite hand to the woman's ear and sends a whisper to it. "Do you have wings, Audette?" She asks and then pulls back away from her with an almost impish grin (if the child was capable of such.) Dark lashes blink slowly over lavender eyes. Oh yes, Maeve's ever fascination with wings and her own want to possess such an appendage. Ever curious of what her new companion may have hiding within her.