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The library. A place Arrow used to visit often, try to improve her skills at literacy and study subjects like basic medical knowledge, botany and wildlife identification mostly. However, being dead and then a floaty ghost made reading an arduous task, and since then she’d sort of forgotten her former interests, rarely venturing near the library let alone in it. But the books still stood well enough she’d imagine, or at least she hoped following the reign of Stryker and the subsequent damage. She was still figuring out what was left in tact and what was not.
Still, anyone still commonly using the library was surprising, someone from outside the territory lines inquiring about it was even more so. Especially when said visitor was...not particularly welcome. A Coalition member, how grand. It was almost insulting, someone from such a group asking about a structure in the town that had to shake off the cruel iron grip on it from those same sons of bitches. Arrow almost wanted to spit directly nearby and tell the lad to piss off and keep his filthy bloody paws off her old books, but she begrudgingly accepted that it was a terrible idea. At least she hoarded her favorites back in the safety of her home.
”Why do you care about the library?” The cheetah asked in response, not making any attempts to be outwardly hostile minus a slight squint of her green eyes, and a less than relaxed curl of her tail. But she didn’t kiss or spit or growl, or any other indication that she wasn’t exactly pleased. But he swore no harm, it wasn’t a complete reassurance but it was better than nothing. She noted the basket, a symbol of truce, or so she associated it in such a way over time. ”How do you even know about it?”
[align=right][sup][sup]template © tikki[/sup][/sup]Still, anyone still commonly using the library was surprising, someone from outside the territory lines inquiring about it was even more so. Especially when said visitor was...not particularly welcome. A Coalition member, how grand. It was almost insulting, someone from such a group asking about a structure in the town that had to shake off the cruel iron grip on it from those same sons of bitches. Arrow almost wanted to spit directly nearby and tell the lad to piss off and keep his filthy bloody paws off her old books, but she begrudgingly accepted that it was a terrible idea. At least she hoarded her favorites back in the safety of her home.
”Why do you care about the library?” The cheetah asked in response, not making any attempts to be outwardly hostile minus a slight squint of her green eyes, and a less than relaxed curl of her tail. But she didn’t kiss or spit or growl, or any other indication that she wasn’t exactly pleased. But he swore no harm, it wasn’t a complete reassurance but it was better than nothing. She noted the basket, a symbol of truce, or so she associated it in such a way over time. ”How do you even know about it?”