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"Niet Allyona, you need to slow down at the fermata, and just because the phrase said fortissimo three measures ago doesn't make the decresendo go away" Peter held his head and groaned with derision as he saw his young student cringe behind the stand with the flute gripped tightly and a scared look in his watery blue eyes. "I am sorry Mr. Konstantinov, but my staccatos have improved, yes?" The small ermine looked back pleadingly, hoping for some reassurance that she had done better but it clearly was lost on the part of her teacher. "Da Alyona, your articulation has improved but it has taken weeks and we have looked at this phrase from The Magic Flute dozens of times for more than a moon's passing and you still make the same mistakes, this speaks volumes about your practice habits young lady." Allyona cringed and Peter sighed again, he hated dealing with uncooperative students and every time he had to speak that way, the lynx felt as if he had become a replica of his father and at only 22 years of age, he shuddered to think of what he might become in the coming years. After the statement left his muzzle, he saw Alyona begin to break down and stare at her feet as tears of shame rolled down her muzzle. "Alyona..." Began the lynx, "this is not entirely your fault because if you truly were meant to be a musician, your passion would surpass your inability to maintain discipline, if you are not in love with the orchestra then why torture yourself with this class?"

A soft sniffle escaped the small ermine's nose and she uncurled her tail from her leg slightly as she looked up at Peter, "I... i think your judgement of my lack of passion is fair, my sister Valentina took me to the ballet last week and I fell in love with it from when I first saw it." The feline gave a smile at this, knowing the familiar look of adoration on her face from when he first saw the performance of Tchaikovsky's beautiful Swan Lake that night in Petersburg just four years before. "Then go after it, the ballet is an admirable profession and it would be best to put your flute down and find a place in ballet, perhaps one day you will find me playing my clarinet in the orchestra for you." Alyona smiled and a content swish came back to her tail as she carefully took apart the keyed silver sections of her flute and packed them away into the leather case, handing it to her teacher and giving him a polite dip of her head as she found her way out, "thank you sir, I may have never be much of a musician but I'll never forget your advice" Peter smiled and waved goodbye to the young ermine, and let out a sigh as he watched her go down the sunset-tinged cobblestone streets. His wish to Alyona for her future was just as much of a wish for himself to have the ability to play the instrument he loved in the orchestra. Peter sat up and straightened out the jacket of his blazer, shaking his head and thinking to himself about what had just happened and thinking that somehow, Allyona had taught him something less than thirty seconds before but he could not for the life of him figure out what exactly that something was.

The feline growled in displeasure thinking of the prospect of dealing with more underachieving students and opened the brown leather case of his clarinet and placed a reed in his muzzle to moisten it, feeling that some time with his instrument would be perfect to drown his woes. Peter began to assemble the keyed wooden length of his instrument, sliding the segments together before removing the reed from his muzzle and pressing it to the cool glass surface of the mouthpiece. The familiarity of assembling his instrument brought a smile to Peter's muzzle and he felt a pleasant warmth in his chest as he tightened the ligature around the reed and began to play a silky trill of notes into the empty practice room. Peter tensed slightly and bit his lower lip when a harsh squeak shot through his clarinet and he breathed heavily and set his instrument down, ears flattened and head resting in his paws defeatedly. There was a skip up by 2 octaves in the piece he was playing and he was rarely ever to play that phrase without butchering that note. This was what he hated, this is what would ruin his chances and this is why he would certainly never make it to the orchestra. Amadeus Mozart had been a flawless pianist at age ten and composed the thirteen page solo that the lynx was attempting to play, so many greats before him and Peter couldn't even break the altissimo register without making his instrument whine like a dying bird. Peter blinked the tears from his eyes, remembering how much he abhored appearing weak, especially while with his instrument and he let his breathing slow as he looked again out the window, trying to focus on regaining his composure.

The lynx blinked and cleared his throat, looking over at his instrument on the table for some seconds, the sun was setting now and it cast warm orange light through the tall thin windows of the small studio. The light reflected off of the polished wood and silver of Peter's clarinet, making it almost glow. Peter sighed and picked up a pencil, making a few quick notes along the staff of the section he had made a mistake playing before allowing his paws to return gingerly to the silver keys and contours of his clarinet. With half-renewed confidence, the lynx once again brought the moist reed to his lips and began to play out a warm flutter of notes, continuing where he had left off, perfectly in time with the gentle clicking of the metronome on the table beside him. He began playing a whirling succession of sixteenth notes and felt quite pleased with how well his fingers shifted seamlessly along the scale. The lynx continued on for several pieces, focusing only on the motion of his fingers, the vibration of the reed and the neat arrangement of tones, articulations and times on the paper in front of him. Abruptly, the door opened and an aged interrupted the feline's playing "Peter!, it is thirty past seven! I want to eat while Nicholas is still the tsar!" Reality and realization of time, along with his enigmatic and unresolved feelings from when Alyona had left his class. Despite all this, the lynx bolted upright and hastily yet still carefully put his clarinet into its case, sliding the reed into its holder and swabbing the sections of his instrument clean and stowing his sheet music, "Apologies Gregory, I did not mean to keep you waiting." Said the lynx to the manager of classes, "I think we can make it to the academy dinner before everyone leaves." Without saying another word, Peter shut and latched his case, took his sheet music neatly under his arm and shut the door to the instruction room for what would hopefully be the last time.

The setting sun cast warm oranges and pinks across the frosty ground, it was March and the slowly receding lines of snow promised a warm spring. Peter very much welcomed this prospect because while he liked the snow, he often felt incredibly stifled and enclosed when he spent too much time indoors and in spite of his prior frustration, a smile crossed the feline's muzzle. Peter's paw pads crunched lightly on the thin glaze of ice that adorned the cobblestone sidewalks and while on his way to the dining hall, he admired the pink reflections of the sunset on the ice and the soft chirping of birdsong from a patch of forest near the road. Even with this moment of calm, Peter's mind was still spinning, he was unusually hard on his own abilities that afternoon and he didn't know why it had suddenly occured to him that he wanted to push to be in an orchestra of all places.

Perhaps it was Aloyna's ambition, perhaps it was some of his own that he did not yet know about. Peter had never been terribly athletic and he had failed miserably when his father had enrolled him in the naval academy in Archanglesk, although thankfully his deviant escapade with Alexander was never found out. The lynx sped up his pace at this thought, cursing under his breath, as the incident had given him a real taste for foxes.

Regardless, all Peter had known of himself up to that point was unambition and failure. Finally, through some random chance, he had heard a rendition of Mozart's concerto for clarinet in D and he learned how to play clarinet, moved to Moskva and out of his parent's control so that he could work as a music instructor and send money home. That plan had worked well enough but It had by no means been ambitious, while his older brother Fydor had been captaining a fleet in Crimea, Peter had been failing in the naval academy and seemingly just aspiring to teach youngsters music. Peter grit his teeth at the thought of Fydor who was now likely heading some guard regiment in Novasibirsk. Both brothers had grown up hearing stories of how their great grandfather had fought Napoleon's forces for Borodino and how their grandfather had fought for control of Kamatchatka from America and struggled with Nihon in the Kurils.

The anger in his deficiencies to some of his family drove Peter forward, there had been truth in what he told Alyona previously about wanting to play in the orchestra for her and there was a real reason he was still cussing at himself when he practiced his music; he could do better than where he was.

The students from the Music academy always had dinner on Friday nights, for some who were in opposite areas of the campus it was the only chance they had of meeting with others they had previously studied with. All the students were smartly dressed in their standard uniform blazers with the crest of the academy over the chest pocket. Peter sat in the midst of them, nibbling absent-mindedly at a strip of lettuce from his salad and disinterestedly eyeing the rich brown beef stew in his bowl. The Lynx's mind was racing and his thoughts leapt between his aspirations as a musician, his displeasure with teaching and quite inexplicably, he took notice of his friend Dimitri sitting with his mate Anna, the more he saw them and the more he thought of himself with a female, the odder it felt. Peter had not thought about his own prospects at a relationship before but his thought was cut short when a familliar brown-furred wolf across from and to the left of Peter caught the lynx's attention and began speaking. "So Alyona left too? Forgive me for saying this Peter but perhaps teaching isn't quite your strong suit."

"You are much too hard on things Peter" replied Armand, flicking his ears light-heartedly as he had a sip of wine, "You just seem to take things far too seriously and I remember how you struggled with Alyona for the past months. I honestly think you tire yourself needlessly with this, it is well known to most of your friends that teaching is hardly your forte when students naturally behave like students and the lazy ones do not change."

Peter sighed and shook his head lightly, taking a forkful of his salad, "I think you may have a point Armand, one thing that unnerves me the most is how much I sound like father or Mr. Blok when I have to chastise a lazy student." The wolf laughed at Peter's comment and took a sip of his wine, smacking the cup down a bit too roughly and propping himself forward on the table with his left elbow. "I think we all remember a few things about dear old Sergei Blok, although I think you see why Mikki, Nolan and I used to call you "Tsarevich" when we were practicing for the woodwind ensemble showcase." The feline curled his lip in a playful growl and Armand laughed again before returning to his beef stew, eating it too quickly and carelessly and making a real mess of his shirt. Peter envied his friend sometimes, the wolf always had a way of being upbeat and pleasant yet still relatively thoughtful and insightful. There was a real endearing quality about Armand's sloppiness at the table and general innocent clumsiness that brought a smile to Peter's face and he thought that it really was good for him to be able to relax and appreciate some cubbish antics again

After finishing his salad and polishing off a good portion of the main entree, Peter licked the back of his paw and took an appropriate opportunity to groom the fur in his prominent cream-colored cheek tufts and he again focussed his attention back at the wolf who sat across from him. Armand had started a new vein of conversation, beginning to recount his experiences in Paris with a novel new instrument that had been emerging from obscurity since its invention half century ago. "So this Saxophone you see, has a very similar key layout to an oboe and is far easier to play, it uses a single reed and its metal body and conical bore produce a sound which I have never heard before." Before Armand could continue on, Dimitri interrupted his train of thought. "A brass instrument body with a woodwind mouthpiece? I doubt I ever heard a more foolish idea in my entire life. Brass bodies are meant to resonate the noise from the mouthpiece of a brass instrument, woodwinds have wooden bodies, the truth of this really is in the name." "Be that as it may Dimitri," replied Armand, "I have never heard a sweeter sound produced from an instrument made of brass, it possesses all of the boldness of a trumpet yet all the silkiness and finesse of an English horn, I believe that this instrument is an invention that will define the next century of music." Dimitri huffed and made an inaudible comment about it being an instrument very suited for Americans and the section of the table fell momentarily silent.

Anna spoke up to break the silence, noticing that Peter seemed rather troubled and uncharacteristically silent through this conversation, new and different instruments normally fascinated the lynx and she hadn't heard his characteristic complaints about his difficult student who he had on Fridays. "Peter, you are awfully quiet tonight, I haven't heard any complaints about students and I was sure you'd be curious about the saxophone, is something the matter?" The lynx sighed and turned his head toward Anna, "Alyona left my class, there is not anything to complain about now, that girl was indeed way too determined for her own good but her ability to have not a care in the world outside the classroom was so adept that I could have dropped her into the Moskva River without her budging." Dimitri waved his paw impatiently in a circular gesture, urging Peter to continue, "This afternoon however, I learned that Alyona had been caring more for ballet than for the flute so she had been understandably devoting more effort to her true passion. with this knowledge understood something inexplicable about her situation and I pardoned her lack of effort and told her to do the thing that she loves as opposed to the one she thinks she has to do. I thought it good advice and while I did lose another student, I feel it would be wisdom to pass onto others who struggle and possibly have another higher passion to go after."

"Impulsive rubbish" Dimitri cut in, almost before Peter had finished speaking. "Real experience is about commitment, not passion, How old is Alyona? eleven? that's much too early for one to know where their true place lies, one must commit to a task and pursue it vigilantly or one will never live to work hard enough to achieve greater things. You are being much too lenient Peter, it surprises me that such a devoted student like yourself would not only condone this laziness but encourage students to dive into it further." Dimitri had always been strongly opinionated and until now, it was usual of Peter to be in accordance with the weasel's harsh teaching tactics. Something that had happened this afternoon had caused Peter's normal manner to seem overly forgiving to him and it unnerved the lynx as much as it probably surprised Dimitri.

"Do not be so dismissive Dimitrishkin," said Anna in a soft tone, turning the weasel's gaze away from Peter's inopportune amusement. "If one has options and time to seek a passion then I believe they ought to seek it, I mean after all, we are our own greatest advocates in life and I'd also sooner take on a task which I enjoy rather than remaining commited to one I abhor." Peter and Armand nodded slightly but Dimitri took a moment to interject briefly, "I apologize for being so direct but Peter, you of all people are the last one I would expect to come to such a conclusion, you always were determined and commited to the clarinet and very hard on yourself for it, I suppose I simply do not understand how this is now your opinion." The tufted feline paused and sipped at his cup "I think you are assuming a few too many things Dimitri, Allyona was not merely letting all of her efforts go, she was absorbed by another passion and a very talented and refined one no less and I did not condone her behavior. I simply encouraged her to pursue her true desire to the fullest so as not to have a silly thing like practicing the flute distract her from her studies in ballet."

"Very true," cut in Anna, "Allyona was not a sloth because she was indeed moving towards another more meaningful practice and I think it was very wise judgement on Peter's account to not have been upset with Allyona" Dimitri sighed and quieted himself with more stew "Yes, I understand that there was more to this event than I had assumed, but hey, if you are so interested in how your student was so enamored by the ballet, why not just slip on a tutu and see the rehersal in the auditorium tonight? The group of friends broke into chuckles, Peter even let himself get caught up in the levity, Dimitri was a bit rough but he meant well and anything would help to diffuse the odd apprehension that still plagued the lynx from the previous afternoon's misadventure.

Once the chuckling and jokes faded to quiet conversation, Peter's attention was diverted by a slender otter who was serving small cups with custard and vodka in them to the students at the table. As he approached, Peter noticed himself gazing over the otter's form, his eyes drifting briefly between the lithe male's legs. Realizing what he was doing, the lynx's eyes darted back upwards and he composed himself before accepting a cup of the custard with a polite dip of his head. Peter had known for some time now that he had a fancy for males, perhaps this was why he had been so perplexed in his observations of some of the relationships his friends had been in and out of. The fact that troubled Peter the most was how severely his urges to be close to another male had been troubling him lately, surely he was not the only one who sought after a partner of his own sex but Peter knew that trusting the wrong people with knowledge about him could harm him badly. The near-incident with Alexander weighing momentarily heavy on his mind.

Peter sighed to himself and stood from his chair, politely saying goodbye to all those around him and leaving an empty bowl, a half-eaten dinner roll and a balled-up fabric napkin at the place where he had eaten. As the lynx left the Academy's dining hall, his head was still swimming with thoughts; the conversation with Allyona, his desire for the handsome waiter, the distant suggestion of performing with an orchestra and for some reason, he also remembered the jokingly worded comment from Dimitri, "ballet rehersal in..." Peter pondered his options, he had nothing better to occupy his time that night, he had always had a fondness the orchestra and he really did wonder what it was that had stirred him so earlier. By the orange glow of gaslamps, Peter followed the footpath to the auditorium, looking up the graceful arching style of the new building. He had not been at the academy for terribly long and whether it was through curiosity or by the path of his ex student, the feline lowered his ears slightly and eased his way through the heavy front door of the auditorium.

_ " Allongé Vera, you have your legs in the perfect position but you mustn't be so hasty dear." Peter walked further into the splendidly adorned hall to spot a lithe vixen dressed in a standard white practice outfit who was receiving directions from her instructor. He paid little mind to the practice routines but was instead much more interested in the musical element which he was certain would begin soon on account of the group of musicians that were filing into the room. However intent Peter was in aural observation, he was at once distracted by the opulent construction of the auditorium and he gazed across the room to take in the magnificently adorned space of the auditorium. There were red and gold curtains draped across the walls and the chairs were all adorned with rich burgandy velvet. The sights, the sounds, the textures within the auditorium all washed over the lynx like a tidal wave. A wide cubbish smile began to crease the corners of Peter's muzzle as he looked along the meticulously gilded balconies and the soaring arches that crisscrossed the roof of the auditorium, running from the graceful arc of the stage in front to the neatly presented block of exits in the back. The orchestra pit lay beneath the point where the two roof arches met, ensuring that the music from the pit would resonate evenly from all angles within the lavish space._

_ The dancers practicing and warming up on stage were beginning to file out, moving quickly and silently backstage through a narrow gap between two curtains. As he watched the line of exiting ballet dancers, Peter observed that the rafters above the stage had to have nearly been at the height of a church spire and without a doubt, it must have taken massive effort to push the gigantic violet curtains open and shut. Still caught in his reverie, the lynx was even more delighted when he heard the distinct hum of violins and woodwinds tuning to B flat within the orchestra pit and caught up in the moment, he closed his eyes part way and let a soft purr rumble in his chest._

_ The entire lavish expanse of the auditorium was lit by three artfully placed chandeliers, the electric lights that they bore was a testament to just how new the space was. The glowing bulbs cast a warm yellow light over much of the auditorium, making the guilding and the gold thread used to weave the academy crest on the curtains shine all the more brightly. Suddenly realizing that the dress rehersal was to begin in only a few moments, Peter inhaled softly and flattened his ears self-consciously, snapping out of his cubbish wonder to find himself a place to sit. _

_ Peter made his way down the sloped, carpeted floor of the auditorium to a seat about halfway between the stage and the last row. He had arrived at just the right moment because the orchestra began playing the opening of the ballet just as peter sat down and what was on the stage when he looked up was enough to take his breath away._

_ The young men and women on stage were weaving to and fro in such delicate and whimsical patterns and there were some men who were dressed very flamboyantly in purple who were...dancing together. Never in his life could Peter have dreamed of a vision so sweet, so beautiful, where the only thing that mattered was the soft trills of music that led the dancer's steps and the graceful motion of a group of performers in delicate harmony. The feline was aware of a banquet scene of sorts taking place to the left of the stage but the graceful spinning and whimsical fluttering of the dancers on the right still held his gaze. The beauty that lay before Peter where none of the societal pressures against people like him and none of the nationalism and religious fervor exsisted was a magical fantasy. For a moment, men could dress vibrantly and dance with themselves and with women in a joyous circle and that spectacle and that thought was enough to bring tears to the young feline's eyes. Peter's heart thumped hard as he watched and he realized that oddly he had barely paid attention to the intricacies of the music at all._

_ "Enchanting isn't it?" the words of a middle-aged ermine snapped Peter out of his reverie, "I do hope my Allyona may be up there one day." A surprised look came across Peter's face as he turned his head to face her._

_ "Oh Mrs. Bagatov, Privyet, what a surprise" Said the lynx, trying to keep quiet in his surprise and slight nervousness, "I suppose you heard what took place earlier, I apologize if I forced your daughter into an unwelcome stance, she is welcome to return to my classes if you see fit." The lynx shifted himself into a slanted position so he could politely face Mrs. Bagatov and still see the beautiful, graceful movements of the dancers on stage. _

_ "Do not be so on edge Peter," replied the ermine gently, "I think you gave her incredibly mature advice and I think the two of us came here for the same reason, I do hope Yona will always see the beauty in this."_

"Thank you for your kind words, I still wonder to myself why such mirth and beauty should be kept just on the stage." Breathed Peter dreamily as he sank back into his chair, feeling himself unwind to the graceful circle of the dancers and the silky melodies that wafted from the orchestra pit.

_ "Well, there would hardly be anything special to this place if all of life was taken up by the light hearted, I am just thankful for a composer the likes of Tchaikovsky, he has written so many incredible works with which I am sure you are familliar." The mid-aged ermine replied. As the next song played, Peter made some remarks about the arrangement and voicing of various instrumental parts mostly to himself, as the woman sitting near him knew next to nothing about musical phrasing herself. Their conversation inevitably dropped into silence but neither party seemed to mind because the flutter of violins signalled the beginning of the main suite of the opera._

From the recesses of the orchestra, the clear woody whistle of an oboe sounded and as the notes trickled from the bell of the instrument like a stream of silk, just as silky as the flowing white dress of the slender tigress who had taken her place in midstage as the swan. She twirled in long graceful spirals and stayed in the center with a handsome wolf who was himself dressed in a fine velvet coat. The lights shining on the stage shone off the fur of both of the dancers in the middle and Peter wondered to himself how anybody could make such coordinated and fluid motions. The lynx was electrified by this display, the dynamics of the two dancers, especially the perfectly timed crouches and twirls from the wolf, all led by the silky whistle of the oboe. Time seemed to stop and Peter's eyes closed most of the way, he looked around him and in his mind's eye, he could see the glassy surface of a deep clear lake with comforting rays of silvery moonlight reflecting from a moon in the sky that was much too large. From the woods near the lake, Peter could see a lithe, silvery male form emerge and an intense, silky warmth rose in Peter's chest. He did not know who it was supposed to be but he knew he was feeling a sensation he had never quite known or understood. He was in love...

When the oboe finished its long sweet solo, Peter began to dance in the meadow of his fantasy, the silvery form of his lover twirled gracefully around him and all he caught was a loving smile on a half-seen muzzle and the affectionate brush of a tail against his side.

_ "Pyotr... are you alright?" A whisper and a gentle tap on his shoulder jolted the lynx from his blissful fantasy. He turned to see Mrs. Bagatov with a slightly concerned expression leaning over the seat between the two of them. Peter's ears flattened slightly and his cheeks reddened self consciously as he realized that he must have been staring glassy-eyed at the stage for several minutes. "oh..s..sorry Mrs. Bagatov, I was just caught up in the music, thank you for getting my attention, that was just the most beautiful thing that I have ever experienced" The ermine smiled at Peter and sat back in her chair._

"Please, you may call me Valentina," she replied, "It seems to me that you've your own passions to see through as well."

"yes," replied the lynx dreamily, "I suppose I do."