She didn't so much walk as dance, barely skimming the dusty earth with her pointed toes. Her body was light, excitement bubbling from her curling fingers and the gentle tilt of her head. Around her, the night seemed open and fresh, rocking from side to side in her lilting wake. The darkness that plagued her was nothing but a set of wings upon which she soared to her secret place. Her happy place. She was one with the night, sharing the stars and bathing in the empty moonlight. The path she had walked so many times bore not a single footprint; her panting breath the only mark of her fleeting journey.Her dance was a lonely one. And in that, she found freedom.