Following Cyrus she wasn't sure why there was so much chaos.  At the thought of how trouble always seemed to come to happen she couldn't help but remember their night in the cave during the snowstorm.  How simple life ultimately was at that time, no more then four walls, a few spare chambers, and just her and Cyrus cuddling out of the cold's reach.  She honestly missed it, and even as they came upon the library her thoughts held till he went searching through the books.  It did peak her curiosity as he searched, her eyes drifting from each tome to the next, every decorated and worn binding that began to pile and listening as Cyrus made his gestures and grunts with every bit he looked through.<br/><br/>She understood why they liked the books though as she herself tried using them to speak, not that it did a whole lot of good.  Approaching at long last she'd skim over the books, taking one and opening it to try and make sense of it, only to be met with two pages of solid text.  What happened to the ones with the pictures in it? The ones that were understandable?  Staring hard at the page her ears perked, trying her best to open up every one of her senses, waiting for the book to tell her something she'd understand or do something to teach her.  But after a minute of staring at the text she'd give up, understanding nothing even after and closing the book to take up the next one and look again.<br/><br/>This time it was a book of alchemy, possible alchemic means to aid in the destruction of the artifacts, but obviously cast aside as nothing by Cyrus.  Seeing all the pictures of bottles and implemented instruments for processes and procedures, the regents and details of scales with works galore.  Some she recognized from their trip, the same regents Atticus foraged for that she tried helping to get lots of.  Every time she found a familiar one she'd look at it, and then the text which once more told her nothing.  Agitated her tail would swish back and forth, obviously wanting to comprehend the what nots of the book.<br/><br/>After each failed attempt she'd realize something in Cyrus changed, his demeanor showing that there was an interest.  Raising her gaze she'd see him looking at the iron sheets bound as a metal tome with a questioning but understanding gaze.  Was there something he was interested in with that book?  Getting up she'd approach and look at the iron tome, staring at the engraved words and seeing....Nothing.  Offering a blank stare of her own her eyes would close after with a sigh.  Books were slowly becoming a hated thing...