"If I must." He glides to an end, freeing Enjolras slowly and offering a final bow before releasing his hand. "But you are not so abominable as might be thought. If a troll such as I can dance, then surely it is not beyond your reach."

Still living, only living, but somewhere below and as-yet unheard thoughts and instinctual doubts roll in dark clouds. There is an end to all things save pain and the inevitability of human suffering. You can't remain forever, and if behind every half-joy is a month's sorrow, what must follow such euphoria? Waiting, waiting.