Meghara stood in the adjacent preparation tent, listening to the performances take place as she prepared herself. She often had props of some sort, rings or fabrics that she would set on fire, but this time she had decided to forgo them. She had worked on a new trick she was quite sure would set the house on fire. A little chuckle came to her red lips at the pun. A delicate eyebrow arched in annoyance as Nora's voice drifted into the tent. Mocking Dragon with her use of the corgi. Meghara would have had something to say for sure, but she couldn't change Nora's decision, and she doubted the idiotic little stunt would bother Dragon much.

She looked up from her mirror as Toby re entered the prep tent, smiling at him. Although the werewolf was a bit happy and enthusiastic for her tastes, she knew he'd admired her performances and incorporated them into his own and as a result, thought of him almost like a protégé. She rose from her stool, giving him a few claps of praise, and then running into the main ring. She wore a leotard that was similar to Larkus', but, as she liked to think, better. It was an orange one that suggested fire, covered in sequins and gems that caught the light in a dazzling show with every movement she made. However, the crowning glory was the long phoenix's tale the leotard had, feathery and fiery, that trailed behind her. She did a cartwheel, coming to a stand in the centre and pausing for a moment to enjoy the feel of the crowd's adoring gaze. Sometimes the circus felt a little too unglamorous for her tastes, but moments like this reminded her why she did it.

Meghara's act didn't include much talking. She liked to start small. Walking delicately to the first row of the crowd, she held a little flame in her hand. They looked on in amazement, wondering how she conjured such a sight and how it wasn't burning her. She walked round the perimeter of the ring, holding out the fire for them all to see. She picked up speed as she did so, running, leaping and flipping by the time she was three quarters of the way through, trailing tails of fire behind her, from her legs and arms, in an intricate pattern.  Coming to a stop near the point shed started out, she slowed down once more and walked to the centre of her stage. Spreading her arms, a line of fire joined her hands, rising up. It curled as it did so to form a circle, then quickly shifted through increasingly more complex flames until she had conjured the image of a phoenix in the flames. It let out a loud, keening cry that hushed the crowd, then the image dissipated. Meghara was particularly proud of that trick. It had involved a small charm from a witch she knew to create sound, but it was worth it. 

She flipped and leaped back to the entrance of the ring, looking round at the crowd with a mischievous smirk. Lifting an eyebrow, she raised her hands and was engulfed in a cylinder of fire. When the cylinder dissipated, Meghara was gone, and the crowd erupted into loud applause. She stood just inside the entrance, basking in the adulation for a moment. Another flawless performance.