▹▹▹▹ Oh, Clementine loved stories! Most of her time, given how sick she often was, was spent in their house reading through her dad's collection of books and fairy tales. Many of them she had read at least three times; others were in French, or had little annotations from her father's late mother, Lottie, written in such a careful, graceful hand that sometimes Clementine stopped just to admire the elegent script, something that her own little paws could not yet duplicate. Stories were other worlds, worlds better than her own, at times, where the world was scary, or lonely, or just plain sad. Clementine found comfort in this, being able to be something that she wasn't, not having to face her own insecurities. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism, or simply a hobby, but it could not be denied.

Regardless, the little serval perked up like many others at the call for story time, her little paws quickly picking her way through the territory to join the voice that had initially called it out. Joining the few people gathering around Oni, who was seemingly the designated speaker of the day, Clementine set her little rump down onto the ground as she turned her gaze up high to give her full attention to the man, as was polite, her little ears twitching excitedly. "Dragons are neat," she agreed softly, speaking up more hesitatantly than it had been for her to come and sit among others. "Can we hear a legened about that, please?"