I listened diligently, following him around his new home, suppressing shivers under the snow, trying to obscure the pain that was searing through my feet. By the time we got to his place, my lower half was numb, and I became convinced that hypothermia had gotten to me, that my toes would fall off and I would never dance again. I knew it was irrational, but at this specific moment in time, I had the unshakeable belief that if I stopped moving, I would get stuck in a stone cast forever, as if Medusa's gaze had hit me.