[ binah cannot empathize with the girl in front of her, nor would she care to. binah cannot admire the girl in front of her, nor would she care to. but binah can acknowledge one thing:

binah understands.

there is a flame, burning within this girl. there is a glimmer, a radiant star emanating from her very being. binah wants to see it burn. binah wants to feed it. and a very real, hungry part of binah wants to clamp the wick and watch it struggle for purchase. ]

Wood into fire. Spring into summer. The breeze stirs, and passions alongside it. [ she ignores her baser instincts. she is here to watch, after all - and what could be more beautiful to watch then a flame blossoming forth? ] Dance, Junna Hoshimi. Dance, and let your light spark something greater.

[ the winds around them stir, murmur restlessly; they grow heated, a warmth burning away the cool breeze and leaving quick hot gusts behind. binah twirls junna under one arm, dipping her brutally low.

let the spark catch, junna. set fire to your passions. ]