Who: Rhine, Gwen What: Cold feet. When: May 1st, evening Where: The burlesque tent Rating: TBD!
Not for the first time since the circus gates had opened, Rhine found herself peeping out from behind the heavy curtain that separated the guests (most of them men) in the burlesque tent from the dancers and their "backstage" area. The tent was busy, doing excellent business as far as she could see. There was a crowd of guests, some watching the routines, some flirting with the girls who weren't performing.
Rhine watched them with a vague sense of apprehension. Humans. All roaming hands and eager smiles, and each and every one of them smelling like a gourmet meal to her. They were safe enough; she had eaten well at the circus, much more so than she had done on her own. Still, the presence of fresh food so close at hand was mildly stressful.
More likely it was the thought of performing that was stressing the young siren out. It wasn't that she didn't think she could do it; she knew very well what her body was capable of. It was just very different, very new – very much something she had never had to do before. The Blackwells had always been privileged, upper-class. She had certainly never had to take off clothes before.
Biting her lip, she turned away from the curtain for what felt like the hundredth time. Where was her cousin when she was needed?