#earthrunes

...meanwhile...

Art steps into the library... it's terribly dusty by his standards, but also so full of books!

Art had his nose DEEP in a book. So much so that he has no idea of the passage of time. After all, Trina was talking to that nice nocker with the cool earrings…

“That boy is your company. And if he wants to eat up that tablecloth, you let him, you hear?”
― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird" chirps a voice from a bookshelf

Page turn! Entranced. Why, he’s not even holding it slanted properly to allow reading over his shoulder.

“A bone to the dog is not charity. Charity is the bone shared with the dog, when you are just as hungry as the dog.”
― Jack London" A hurumph

Dark eyes settle on the boy, but they allow Bronte to voice her opinion without interruption.

He raises his gaze from the book, a little confused, not seeing anyone near him. Who would think to look UP?

Back down to the book… where was he? Ah yes. Careful page turn.

Oh, Bronte flusters a bit "“It ain't no fun if the homies can't have none. ”
― Snoop Dogg"

"Perhaps you could adjust the angle, sir?" A gentle whisper.

"I fear Bronte may soon have apoplexy."

He startles! Blinking up at the whisperer.

“Ah??”

"Hello."

A sluagh!

Zara is wraith-thin, with papery flesh withered against her scrawny frame. Bone-white hair is twisted into a braid, close in color to her ecru blouse and grey skirt. Indeed, she is a study in pale - save her dark, scintillating eyes.

The dragon that swoops down to now get a look is also amazing, each scale like a tiny page from a book, ink lines scratches here hinting at the volumes she has drank in. She is small compared to what some think of 'dragons'

He is certain he was told something about this sort, perhaps to be wary and not let slip any secrets? He blinks a few times. "Have I trespassed on a private space? I am sorry, and will certainly withdraw." Though he is obviously loathe to set the book aside - he closes it, but a finger remains to hold the page.

THEN he sees the Dragon. Eyes widen, and he looks from Sluagh to Chimera, and back again. His brow furrows a bit, and he asks, "A dragon?" Rather stupidly, and his expression shows that he regrets the lack of prose the moment he says it.

Bronte, noticed at last, nudges him to open the book again "“If you are a dreamer come in
If you are a dreamer a wisher a liar
A hoper a pray-er a magic-bean-buyer
If youre a pretender come sit by my fire
For we have some flax golden tales to spin
Come in!
Come in!”
― Shel Silverstein"

"A bookwyrm."

"She wishes to peruse alongside you."

Bronte bobs her head in agreement

"Oh. Ohhhh." He looks at the book, then back to her, and opens it back up to the page. "Shall I read it aloud? In the Library?"

She looks aghast!

"Nay!"

"You may simply read at a more accommodating angle."

The page he was on…

Looking back into past ages, we see that some 2,000 or 3,000 years b.c. the star α Draconis was suitably placed to serve as the Pole Star, when β and δ of the Great Bear served as pointers. It need hardly be added, that since the birth of accurate astronomy the course of the pole has only been observed over a very small part of the mighty circle. We are not, however, entitled to doubt that the motion of the pole will continue to pursue the same path. This will be made abundantly clear when we proceed to render an explanation of this very interesting phenomenon.

"I did not know that Dragons could read. Or would read." He says, apologetically, his tone a shade quieter.

"Bookwyrm." She reminds.

"What is a Bookwyrm?"

Bronte peeks at the book, ignoring the insult ingorantly given and reads it. Clearly her bright eyes scan the part of thew ork showing

He points obligingly to the illustration.

"It's clearly not to scale. Were you interested because it's Draco?"

"Bookwyrms are hoarders of knowledge, my nameless guest."

“Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my folly.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice"

"Oh. I would stand, to greet properly, but I fear I might upset the dra- bookwyrm." He nods his head instead. "My name is Art, of Silverwolf. I was here to visit Sir Almandine, and now I'm waiting on my escort to finish her visit."

"Ah. And yes, one must needs pay Bronte her due."

"Her due?" He blinks a few times. "Is there a fee to visit the library?" Sounding a little worried.

"Save proper respect for the bookwyrm?" A smile.

"I am merely the Librarian, I fear."

"Oh! Yes. Dragons can be a bit prickly. I should know." He twists a bit and bows his head politely to Bronte. "Mistress Wyrm of the Books, please forgive my impertinence. I am told that it is one of my defining characteristics thus far. I am very much obliged to your lending of this tome, as I have never seen a copy elsewhere, and the information may be vital to my studies."

Bronte seems pleased by this

"If you wish to borrow the book, as a fledge, you will need to affirm that it may be returned."

"Oh, I wasn't going to take it. Just read it while I was here. We traveled on the trod, see, and I couldn't risk anything happening to it."

"I appreciate your conscientiousness."

He glances down at the page again, and frowns a bit.

“So many books, so little time.”
― Frank Zappa"

the bookwyrm seems to understand

"Seventeen, and yet unnamed. Hm." Making a little scrawled note on his notepad.