“It’s probably a trick, to tease the first years.”
Harriet’s voice falls softly in the evening cool, but nothing escapes my ears. Her disappointment was clear; there was no secret grove under the stars. Several students had encouraged us out here in hushed whispers and eager voices, spinning tales of dancing lights and soft music and a gentle guardian that watched over it all.
“Pity. It sounded so nice.” Face wrinkled, she looks to me. “Although I was afraid that the alleged guardian might be a bit… scary.”
I mewl at her sweetly. I don’t think she hears my words, per se, but my intention is often understood. She nods. “You’re right, Bibbs. It’s still a nice night. Let’s see what’s beyond those trees, there.”
So one little adventure leads to another, but we would have liked to see this enchanted grove.