Malcolm

He wasn’t making much progress on his own. It came as a great relief, then, that he would be having a friend to go to the masquerade with him. A friend who would be there at any minute to begin their dance practice. Malcolm paced, hooves clicking along the wooden floor, followed by the clicking of four smaller hooves. Francis bleated as he trailed after Malcolm. “Oh? What is it?” The herald bleated again as he pointed to the door with his nose. “Did you see...

Malcolm didn't dance. He never found the need to dance. At the most, he would sometimes write about dancing, but he could never imagine doing it himself. He thought that perhaps he would get the courage to dance during the festivities at the masquerade ball... but he still hadn't gotten the courage. Not only would he have to try and understand the movements on the spot, but he would have to find a partner to dance with. That might involve using his voice to ask for a dance, which might get hi...