This wasn't something she's been told before- to work less. Always and ever it was push harder, push farther, and endure the pain with a calm face. She's never been told she was satisfactory, clearly she wasn't working hard enough, wasn't pushing herself as much as she should. The soreness in her ankles and joints had become worse over the past few days but it was something she could, and would, push through. Just. After one last drill. "It means I rest and treat the tendinitis until the inflammation goes down before attempting to resume training."

To say anything else would rightfully irritate whoever spoke with her. Dr. Fabrone would have a field day with this negligence.

"I do enjoy it- this. Dance. I'm not Marie but I am good and this is the one thing I can do well. And for all that I am frustrated by my limitations and for the aches it may cause me I love it. I do." If she didn't, she'd have walked away years ago. Familial expectations couldn't push her so hard into something she loathed. "...I've six older sisters and one younger brother. They're all exactly what a child in my family should be. Talented, intuitive, graceful, not at all socially awkward, well liked, etc. I'm....me. This is the one way I can stand even a little close to the rest of them and seem to belong."