THINKING // o, library stuff

[beck.]

    The creaky old library once run by the prior residents of Tanglewood was not a place the commander commonly visited unless prompted to. It could be said he even avoided it, jealous of the literate few among their ranks and mourning the education he wasn't privileged to receive. Yet the old building certainly seemed to keep his peers entertained and content for the most part, so he kept his trap shut and his thoughts to himself. Beck didn't understand what was so great about libraries anyways, ignorant to the years of knowledge inscribed and stored on their shelves. The only reason he had stumbled inside its broken doors today was because of a nagging fly trap seeking shelter from the blistering sun. Why Audrey wanted to be indoors and not basking in sunlight was beyond him, although maybe the heat was wilting the little fly trap. Either way, Beck obliged to its tugging at his fur and pointing, teeth shifting their grip on the bucket handle he carried the plant in as he begrudgingly dragged himself into the library.

    There wasn't much to do for a spirit who couldn't read English besides slouch in a chair with Audrey contentedly sat on the table in front of him. Once or twice he reared his head with the idea of shredding an unlucky book simply out of boredom, but laziness kept him rooted to his seat, curling up in an awkward position against the chair's back. Audrey III ignored the restless ghost for the most part, more concerned with digesting its recent meal of a field mouse found within the walls of the library. All was silent, paranoia releasing its grip on his mind as Beck relaxed -- the distant thud of falling books caused him to jerk back to attention, hackles bristled and claws unsheathed as his head whipped around to stare at the noise's direction. Briefly pausing to check on Audrey, who didn't seem startled at all by something it couldn't sense, the poltergeist slunk from his chair and tiptoed through looming shelves to approach a vibrant purple blur. Oh, it was Squawk -- Ska'arq, right. No one else was so... purple. A ragged huff escaping his nose, Beck snuck up closer to the reptile to get a better view of whatever he was doing. "Ya know, in a library, you're supposed to be quiet. Not throwin' books all over the place or whatever," the little feline wheezed, kicking aside one of said scattered novels and plopping down to sit across from the studious dragon. He squinted, unable to discern any letters written on the archaic pages at all, and looked back up to Ska'arq with a confused glare. "Whatcha even readin' in the first place, huh?" It had to be interesting to warrant this much attention from the distant and cold dragon.

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