Kian heard an offer for hot chocolate. It sounded intriguing, but he had no idea what it could be. Some sort of drink, he assumed, something warming ... but he had not the foggiest idea what it would taste like.
I think I'll pass, he thought. Carefully he eased himself up onto a toestand. His feet screamed in protest but he ignored the pain, knowing that he really should practice more in future.
At this rate my shoes'll seize up, he reflected. And that wouldn't be good. With a sigh he lowered himself back down. The muscles in his legs relaxed: he had not realised how tightly he had been clenching them.
Kian took of his shoes. That was enough for today - at this rate he would make holes in the floor. It was not a house built for dancing. He spotted somebody being carried into the living room.
What could have happened?
At least it would be a way to get back into the general atmosphere. No one was really taking any notice of him - he found himself feeling a little left out.
Kian headed out into what the others called 'the living room'.