"Bog moi, Natalia," he said with a tired, but real, gentle smile - not quite berating her, more along the lines of soft chiding, "do not be a child, listen. You can be superb - it is perfection that is... It is static, unchangeable, until life moves on. Be adaptable, be real. That is better than perfect. That will keep you alive and capable of doing better yet, the time after that. Please, believe me."

And his eyes did warm up at the address, at the image she was describing.

"That, I know you will. You will dance your way into men's dreams and nightmares both, embraced by the night even in the light of day. Faultless. Almost invisible, definitely uncatchable, but unforgettable. And those who do see you will know the fire that you are, too, wrapped in the shadows. Not as I know your fire. But you'll still blaze through their lives and incinerate what you aim to destroy."

He swallowed. Where had all these words come from? He didn't know. But he could see it. Could see her, somehow, and all that it would cost her - and all the ways she just wasn't going to turn away from those costs.

"You are almost that good, already. And you will keep on getting better. And all the rewards you receive, you will have earned.

"My Natalia."