Dandelion and Rose found themselves on opposite ends of a seesaw atop a sharp precipice. They were attracted to each other but neither could see, hear, nor talk; only their sense of balance gave away the other’s presence. To maintain such a relationship, both had move in harmony. If Dandelion took a step forwards, then so would Rose. If Rose doubled backwards, then so must Dandelion. Otherwise, both would fall, injure each other, and think twice about getting back on the seesaw again.
When the two first met, neither dared to make sudden movements out of fear. This would quickly change as the cold nights drew them closer to share warmth and the windy days forced them further apart for some stability. Most days however were calm and so to ease their restlessness and learn more about one another, the two took turns leading. Rose would slide forwards a meter and Dandelion would follow suit by three-quarters to maintain weight parity. Walking soon turned into hopping and then evolved into various forms of kicks, spins, turns, pivots, crosses. Many times they fell off the seesaw but every time they got right back on again. Movement itself communicated their bond and deepened their trust in each other.
Two centuries had passed since Dandelion and Rose were last seen atop that fateful seesaw that once united them in movement. Legends tell of a violent squall that had swept through the mountain side. After the storm had cleared, the seesaw atop the sharp precipice had broken cleanly in half. Some say that a disagreement had end their relationship for good; their combined weights crashing down upon two ends would have severed the seesaw. Others claim that lightning struck the seesaw, splitting it in two from divine jealousy of mortal love. Whatever the case, the bodies of Dandelion and Rose were never found but their movements could sometimes be felt today whilst engaged in dance.