((Haha, cat-creature doing ballet without pointe shoes. (;u;) Or would it be even more absurd
with pointe shoes? Anyway, please feel free to skim over the first two paragraphs. I apologize for the length.))
Riel

Riel waited her turn behind the curtains. She had been practicing for her performance for weeks, and the hymn told herself she was prepared. Inside her chest, however, her heart was beating furiously. Was it excitement? Nervousness? Probably some combination of both, she concluded.
When the time came and Riel's name was called, the hymn banished all other thoughts from her mind to concentrate on her movements. She stepped out from behind the curtains and flashed the audience a confident smile as she gracefully made her way onstage. It was a confidence Riel was not entirely sure she felt. She announced what talent she would be demonstrating: dancing. She had been enrolled in a ballet school for several years and was ready to showcase what she had worked so hard to learn, or so she hoped.
As the opening notes of a piano began playing through the speakers, Riel closed her eyes and rose en pointe. She performed simple steps at first. She bent her knees into a plie, then rose up on her hind legs to glide sideways into a glissade. Riel poured all of her attention into her coordination and form and forgot her anxiety. She tried to make every move smooth and graceful, every line of her body a gentle curve. As the music grew more layered and rose in volume, Riel began incorporating more technically challenging moves. The Hymn rose back onto her rear legs and pushed into a pirouette, tail switching for balance. The turning move was executed several times, and the physical exertion was beginning to wear the Hymn down. Nevertheless, she leaned forward and lifted one leg straight up backwards in a hymn version of an arabesque. Her arched back and leg muscles felt as if they were burning, but Riel kept her movements slow and graceful. Finally, as the music reached its peak, Riel leaped into a grand jete, one leg swinging backwards and the other extending outwards to form a perfect split in midair. Her wings trailed behind her to sparkle in the limelight, her arms were held in perfect arcs, and her head and body were turned just so. The music ended just after its peak, and Riel was left standing in her final position, trying not to pant too visibly and hoping that the judges would not notice the shine of sweat in her fur. She bowed, hoping that her feat of physical strength, coordination, and artistry would be enough to impress.