Breathe.

The silk gown under her fingertips dragged along the dirt floor, but she didn't care. She leaped onto the moving merry-go-round and clutched the golden metal pole with all her might, the adrenaline coursing through her. This was the first time she'd done anything like that before, and as the realization dawned on her that she'd actually done it, Cara shut her eyes and pressed her lips to her knuckles.

"Are you alright?" a curious child to her left asked, and she turned to him.

"Yes, yes, I'm alright," she replied with a smile, but the young boy riding on the brown pony regarded her skeptically for a moment.

For the duration of a few seconds, all that could be heard was the chatter of the carnival guests and the music of the carousel, and she shut her eyes again, a slow smile spreading over her lips. She'd done it, she'd finally done it.

"Breathe," came the child's voice, causing Cara to turn to him questioningly.

"What?"

"Breathe," he answered patiently, "that's what my brother does when he does something exciting. He says that we should either breathe or sing or talk, anything that uses our lungs so that they don't freeze up like popsicles."

Cara released a warm laugh and let herself swing around the metal pole. Oh, she was breathing alright, and even if she was in the middle of thousands of people, she'd never felt so free.