Pirate and bird together, they slid effortlessly through the tall blue door and entered the scene. A few heads turned to glance at the newcomers but there was no lull in the conversation and no slowing of the action.
Percy dipped in close. “Not the entrance of a notorious pirate,” he whispered.
Quill sauntered over to the dance floor. At the edge, he closed his eyes and listened closely to the music, sussing out the rhythm and matching his breath to the down beats. He stretched up onto his toes and then plummeted into the deepest depths of a squat.
Percy flew up to the ceiling and perched on the main beam that ran from one end of the roof to the other. Despite the complete lack of noise that he made, many heads swiveled to take notice and several conversations died.
Quill filled the silence with a guttural clearing of his throat. He clenched one fist, released it and, like a dog that had been held back from a wild squirrel by a leash for hours that finally snapped, he sprang up into a handstand.
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