[Finished] Small Print [Vyn]

[Bee]

"Undoubtedly," she said. She didn't think she would be able to tolerate the constant chatter of another being--though it occurred to her, with a darkly tinted bit of humor, that if Imre ever grew tired of his companion he could simply toss him toss him to the back of the closet and go upstairs. Presuming the architecture of his home were such; Phaedra had no real clue as to the layout of his living accommodations. "I must generally rely on study and dead authors to keep me free from madness's tendrils; they are tragically not nearly so directly communicative as your friend."

In that moment she remembered something really rather important; in her initial tumble she had not lost only her glasses but also her book. It was amid a few others on the floor and she returned it to the safety of her paws.

"I highly recommend Antonia Craft, by the way," she said, waving the small tome. "But only before the content police got hold of her." Come to think of it, Craft had used the Rabbit--myth--as an extended metaphor for a forbidden relationship with a massive power differential. She stewed on this a moment.

[Vyn]

For the most part, I use the same methods. Perhaps, though - as a Tulgey, they don't spare me quite as well. Not after... well. He tapped his beak with his pen briefly and rolled his eyes beneath the papery mask. Oddly enough, I can see many times more clearly but loneliness is far more pressing.

Oooh. A moment of truth. Imre didn't like it.

Her brief diversion to locate a book was, in fact, far more interesting and also reminded him of his purpose. He was looking for something... wasn't he.

The crow glanced around for a second and his apparent confusion was met with a snide reminder from Shashi. Ah, yes! That was it. He almost started gathering his writing materials up in absent-minded pursuit when the woman spoke again.

Oh... right. Talking.

Even better, Books.

Imre may not have been an Esterberry but he certainly had the ungodly booklove of one. He perked notably at this topic and she would catch him scribbling the author's name across the top of their conversation ledger. Which was now more than a couple pages long.

If ever he desired the bibliography he would have thankfully already written it for himself.

Not that anyone would ever want to read the ramblings of a mad, mute, crow. Entertaining thought though it may be.

I will most certainly pick one of her books up before I go and, speaking of, I just recalled the book I'd been in pursuit of. Wonderful meeting you, Phaedra, we will certainly have to stumble into one another again. He scratched that out. Not literally, I hope.

[Bee]

She waved the book and smiled. "I think our shared interests shall lead inevitably to convergence," she said. She had a lot of research to do in the meantime, though. One must always have the right questions on hand and she had rather a lot of them for this crow and his ghostly companion. It was quite possibly one of the few times when she found a fellow Card to be more interesting than the book in her hand. Or at least on par.

And his comment about loneliness was a little saddening, honestly. Someone who loved books so should never be without a multitude of like-minded people to discuss them with. It was a travesty.

"Should you wish to get a step ahead of fate, however, I frequent the library on Market Street more often than this one. Quite a nice place to get out from the afternoon sun."

[Kari Muffin]

The rabbit was bored.

The rabbit was always bored really, so perhaps it didn't count. But hadn't they come to this bloody place for a mission? What was it? There was a stupid book that the bird wanted and couldn't find in that horrible Wood.

Books books books. He liked knowledge as much as the next person, but Cards really weren't interesting when it came to literature. And they were talking about more books? He didn't bother to peer over the bird's shoulder or actually listen to what the Esterberry woman was saying. For a few moments he eyed the various people wandering around the library. Nothing really struck him as fascinating enough to not bother Imre.

"You know we did have a reason to be here before you were distracted, right?" he said as he picked at the imaginary dirt in between his ghostly nails that never hit the ground.

[Vyn]

Imre grinned, and she might have even been able to see the faint crack of his beak despite the papery covering. Which was, quite lamentably, spewing something very bland about the lovely shade of pea soup. Sometimes Imre was embarrassed by his face's poor taste, but what could he do?

I'll be certain to stop by the Market Street library when next I'm in the Capital. It is always best to be a step ahead of fate. And Shashi was poking him again. He gave the air a concerned look, or would have if anyone could see his face, and then turned back to the sugar glider.

Alas, Shashi has become irritable. I should be off now. Enjoy your reading! With that written, he gathered his supplies into the Esterberry-pelt bag and offered Phaedra a cheerful wave of the wing before vanishing down one of the isles in pursuit of his missing book.