He watched her jump from one rock to the next, swiftly, almost bouncing, almost levitating. Tiny dancer. She was the kind of girl you meet under a summer breeze and lose yourself into. He knew she was the kind of girl who would cross the globe just to see you again, but would never let you be the reason she gives up her dreams. He knew she was the kind of girl who'd say goodbye at the airport and hope you'd go buy a ticket out of pure impulse, cause she would never, but she likes to think people would do that.
He knew. This was the kind of girl you either followed into the world or let go and watch her fly. He took another drag from his cigarrette and smiled as she beamed from the highest rock around. That kind of girl.