For just as he said the word Whiskers one of Aslan‘s had actually tickled his ear. Bree shot away like an arrow to the other side of the enclosure and there turned； the wall was too high for him to jump and he could fly no further. Aravis and Hwin both started back. There was about a second of intense silence.
Then Hwin， though shaking all over， gave a strange little neigh， and trotted across to the Lion.
“Please，” she said， “you’re so beautiful. You may eat me if you like. I‘d sooner be eaten by you than fed by anyone else.”
“Dearest daughter，” said Aslan， planting a lion’s kiss on her twitching， velvet nose， “I knew you would not be long in coming to me. Joy shall be yours.”
Then he lifted his head and spoke in a louder voice. “Now， Bree，” he said， “you poor， proud frightened Horse，draw near. Nearer still， my son. Do not dare not to dare. Touch me. Smell me. Here are my paws， here is my tail， these are my whiskers. I am a true Beast.”
“Aslan，” said Bree in a shaken voice， “I‘m afraid I must be rather a fool.”
“Happy the Horse who knows that while he is still young. Or the Human either. Draw near， Aravis my daughter. See！ My paws are velveted. You will not be torn this time.”
“This time， sir？” said Aravis.
