The Elephant. Remembers every count, every correction, and the version of the phrase everyone agreed to drop three weeks ago. Never forgets a step — delightful, unless you were quietly hoping the room had. Moves with far more lightness than an animal that size has any right to.

The Owl. Sits perfectly still through an entire phrase, rotates his head about 270 degrees further than seems advisable, then moves on a beat nobody else heard coming. Lands without making a sound, in a room where everyone else lands like furniture.

The Fox. Slips through a phrase sideways, finds the one exit nobody else noticed, and makes it look like the choreography was always heading there. Occasionally vanishes head-first into deep snow and comes back out holding an entire piece.

The Otter. Spends most of the piece on the floor and all of it in motion — rolling, sliding, upside down, back up, gone again. Generates roughly forty new ideas an hour and has started the next one before anyone has answered about the last. Cannot be left unsupervised near a smooth floor.