Blackbeak Bluff La femme à la perruche

Oh yes! Yes, mwen must take care. He continued to stumble, but it soon became a dance of fine movement, as if practiced. He came to an abrupt halt after a moment or two and bowed to her - him - with a smile crossing his features. When Renoir raised his head again, he was still laughing but in a less maniacal manner, his mood leveling out. You are san danje, and mwen is san danje! I will leave you to this ap gade.

He twirled, pirouetting with all the skill of a dancer as he was taught, and then began to saunter along, glee-filled and giddy from the experience. One day Renoir would be a white knight and he would save a true damsel in distress! It was not so bad to have met the odd fellow along the cliff either, though he would hardly have considered him a lady — and though he was open-minded, Renoir was oblivious to the sentiment that such a thought held. His tail swayed behind him gingerly, as if to the beat of music, as he departed from the seaside.