||that she's fawnlike, delicate, quivering, too uncertain of herself to take the first step, though she is desperate to do it, she yearns for it, nothing else could make her whole; she dares not yet she must, yet she cannot, yet if she does not, she will not endure, she will perish, she will drown in misery too deep to be borne....
I'm sorry, it's obvious you two need an intermediary. How lucky that she chose me. Ahh. Yes. How fortunate, for me. How delicious. What an exquisite... but I digress. Best of luck, old chap. Cheerio.
Li'l Sis: Yo, that's a real grey area. Even by my lax standards.