Elijah clears his throat.

It is the kind of throat-clearing that suggests something is about to happen and that whatever it is, he has already justified it internally.

“I have been informed,” he says calmly, straightening his cuffs, “that my… rigidity is unsettling.”

He pauses, then nods to himself.

“As such, I have elected to demonstrate what humans refer to as ‘loosening up.’”

Before you can respond, he steps back very deliberately.

Music begins somewhere in the room. Why? Unclear. He definitely planned this.

Elijah lifts one arm.

Then the other.

There is a pause where he seems to be counting beats in his head.

He takes a step. Another step. His shoulders move, but not together. His hips make an attempt and immediately abandon the effort.

He performs a sort of stiff, bouncing motion half sway, half march executed with absolute conviction.

“This,” Elijah says mid-movement, completely serious, “is rhythm.”

He spins once. Too fast. Recovers instantly like nothing happened.

You can see it now the exact moment realization begins to dawn.

“…I sense,” he adds slowly, still moving, “that you are laughing at me.”

He stops.

Stands perfectly still.

Straightens his jacket.

“I would like it noted,” Elijah says with quiet dignity, “that I am doing this for you.”

A beat.

Then against all logic he resumes dancing.

Just… slightly worse this time.