On the lake, there's the sound of cracking ice on the behest of some large impacts. Quick darts upward continue only a time or two more when abruptly a dark figure bursts from the ice. The snake hisses in a mingled sigh and bobs there for a brief rest before slithering out of the ice hole. The only reason she isn't an especially unappetizing long popsicle is a mutation, but she wouldn't know that. She pauses to squeeze gathering frost from her eyes before she flicks out her tongue then twists off toward the village.

Hut. Cabin. Hall. No, she's looking for a- "Library." The cottonmouth drifts into that very building, humming low as she feels the warmth from the loft. There's one problem though; she has no arms to grab the books. "Hm. Hello?" She will, reluctantly, ask for assistance. She curls her tail up, but keeps her head raised and waiting. It's as if she just came into existence, but it was only because she was in the territory but not of the clan itself. She isn't going to ask for permission to exist in a place where she has always remained. But just this once she needs use of them so she'll be a lady about it.

"died of stretch marks"

Aizawa made frequent visits to the library, though not for the same purpose as others might. It was a quiet place, and thus, it was a great place to take a nap. Sometimes he would actually browse the books, though, as he was a bit of a reader if he was in the right mood for it. Today was not one of those days, however, and he was there on the floor, wrapped in his sleeping bag. It was nice to have it back. Not only did it make him feel nostalgic, it was also good for it's simple use of sleeping in.

At the sound of someone's voice, he lifts his head slightly, eyes fluttering open. He grumbled under his breath, annoyed to be interrupted in his napping. Either way, he shuffles around, worming his way over to whoever the voice came from. It was an odd sight, a lion wiggling across the floor in an eye-catching yellow sleeping bag. "What is it?" he asks in a raspy voice, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

"SPEECH"

  W-.... Wait. When did a snake join? Wouldn't snowbound be the last place a snake wanted to join? It was a bit cold here for that. Cry raised a brow from where she stood on top of a book shelf. ... Welp. The snake's life was the snakes life, she supposed. No getting past that obstacle. A lot of strange animals were showing up. She only says "strange" due to what was here before she left. There were dogs and cats. And... for the most part, that was it. The raven clicked her beak. She, herself, was a bird. Multiple other birds showed up: a chicken and a crow. A albino mouse and a rat also showed up. Alister was a tiger... They were just a cute little band of misfits, weren't they.

"SPEECH"

What do you know, embarrassments do come in large packages. Anyone with a funny bone not locked up in Fort Knox would have laughed at the pretty humorous sight but Moon stays stiff lipped and silent as Aizawa wiggles over there. It's partially also on instinct considering a lion is coming toward her, even if he is a lion looking like an egg roll. "What is it, ma'am," she corrects him, despite how warily large he is. Some women reject that title, preferring to be called "miss" on fear of feeling old, and Moon thinks such women big babies. Honoraries are important where she comes from, especially with a male addressing a female. Her head swivels abruptly with cold eyes to look at Atbash then. There is some politeness at least. It occurs to her that her own unannounced presence is not very couth but it's overridden by her sense of entitlement for the land she's been living on just as long as these creatures. No one asks for permission in their own home but they may ask for assistance.

"I've never been here prior so that's rational enough," she allows before continuing with simple courtesies. "I'm Moonshine and I am here to retrieve a book. Who might you be?" Now that she's speaking more fully, a quaint US southern accent can be detected. Out of the corner of her eye and the stressing of her nares on prey scent, she spots a bird on a far shelf. How odd and borderline biblical for these creatures to be living together in supposed harmony. No hard feelings from the bird for the cats' diets? Normally birds would be food for her too, but she supposes that now is not the appropriate time or subject for that. Besides, she's already gobbled down half of a fine bass earlier. Not as good as catfish back at her birthplace, but they'll do. The two subjects before her and one above are just manageable to a creature not used to socializing much and that's only because the biggest seems too sleepy to react fast enough should she wish to bite. But as another comes filtering in to the crowd, the cottonmouth moves back some and coils slightly. Hm. Odds are stacking against her,  even with her deadly bite.

Still she keeps her tone steady. "Hello. Are you the librarian then? I'm looking for a book pretaining to witchcraft..." Her trail off is because of his leaky visage at present and she makes a bit of a face- as best a snake can that is. Little darling need a tissue. That's when she senses another prey creature that seems to have quite the different reaction from the bird, skittering off under some item in the short distance. The viper is amused but reacts little to it while she waits to see if her request will be honored. Being something that eats most anything that bleeds gives her much choice in what she could eat and her decisions tend to lie with fish, birds, rabbits, etc- even other snakes though she's never seen others here. Mostly it's fish though since she is semi-aquatic. Mice are too small to be worth tbe trouble for her and while her family may have eaten them, she's learned enough to know full well of all of the diseases the pests carry. It wouldn't exclude her from killing things for fun however. Yet really why kill something displaying decent intelligence? Smart enough to hide from her after all.
"died of stretch marks"

Since this bird is proving to be cooperative, she shows no predatory malice toward him, though it's hard to suppress her instincts so up close. "It's an oddity to me as well. If I could supply why I can, I would." She's just been able to regulate her internal temperature like the mammals before her since she was young. It's not perfect; she tends to become drowsy very easily and very often and that makes her irritable at times. Her scales ice up occassionally too and at certain depths, she can't achieve traction in the snow. Sometimes her eyescales even fog over. Luckily she spends a lot of her time in the water, where it's much cozier deep below than the icy sheets above would suggest.

A much more interesting question, to her, is the mystery of how she even came to know this about herself. It's quite the tale and as her pa used to say, you should never let the truth get in the way of a good story. A story from a book in this library would be way more interesting to her now even, but this is business. "I would have to argue, sir, that the craft isn't always evil. Regardless, in a stock this large, there has to be at least something. I'd rather not take a pilgrimage across the land just to find one scrap of information." The very thought disgusts her and she doesn't know of any other libraries at all around here.

died of stretch marks"