Felurians voice was not resonant. It did not fill the forest glade. Hers was the hush before a sudden summer storm. It was soft as a brushing feather....It made my heart step sideways in my chest. Speaking thus, when she called me a poet, it did not raise my hackles or make me grit my teeth. From her, it sounded like the sweetest thing a man was ever called. Such was the power of her voice. Felurian brushed her fingertips across my lips. poet kisses are best. you kiss me like a candle flame. She. In the end the curiosity in her won out and she nodded.“Well then, why don’t we see if I can clear it up?”Clearing her throat Hermione looked into Percy’s face and asked simply, “What was she doing?”Percy flushed, “Well you see um- she was, well she was kind of- it’s something that adults do when-”“I just want to know what she was physically doing Percy, not a reason or an excuse. I don’t understand why she was bent over like that and what all the slurping noises were.”If possible Percy turned. More

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