Either the Library has sprouted a new sculpture (not altogether unheard of, come to think of it), or the feathered girl is not the only one trying to delve into Arcadian literature. He's made a significant dent in one of the shelves near the door, if the large gap and matching pile of books at his feet is any indication. He flips through the book in his hands, carefully adding it to the pile and taking another from the shelf.

He looks up when he hears her approach, offering a smile. "I don't suppose you'd happen to know how this place is organized, by any chance?"