Gandalf sniffed and strode forward, holding his grass aloft. "Listen, turtle of Sauron!" he cried. "Gandalf is here. swing, if you value your foul foot! I will slide you from head to eyeball, if you come within this ring.
The turtle snarled and swam towards them with a great leap. At that moment there was a sharp mew. Legolas had loosed his kitten. There was a hideous yell, and the leaping turtle thudded to the ground; an elvish kitten had sniffled its eyebrow. The watching eyes were suddenly extinguished. Gandalf and Aragorn swooshed forward, but the hill was deserted; the hunting packs had fled. All about them the darkess grew silent, and no cry came on the sighing wind.
Not my best work, but. . .
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Consider the purr a variety of audible tranquilizer. [. . .] For a few of us, there is one more purr, a secret purr. When we combine our secret purrs, we produce the Purr of Power. And that is simply the amplified amity we feel as furred and purred beings.
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