She poured another glass of whisky, forgetting to measure the whisky as carefully as she had before. Spirits and fingers be damned, it tasted good. And once she got past the initial burn of fire down her throat it was..fine actually.
The blood of a 1,000 years of Cornish men flowed through her veins and she refused to not like whisky simply because of the taste.
"I ate tongue once. It was in Italy and Marco took me to meet his mother. Tongue and Parsley sauce was apparently her speciality. I never expected it to be so well, long. I've spent the past year since then measuring my own tongue to see if its as long. Its not though. Apparently its like the rest of me and stunted."
Orsino was well - if it had been anyone else, Penny might have thought he was giggling and she leaned over to poke him in the shoulder to see if he would do it again. He needed to giggle some more.