The Library is quiet and still in the grey hours before the dawn, disturbed only by the soft, nearly inaudible pads of two bookwyrm kits prowling the halls. Eventually they make their way into the dark corridor where Inric sleeps on a hard shelf next to the books. First one jumps up to stand next to him, then the other, and they nose across the brightly patterned blanket. Inric wakes grudgingly, and raises his head from where he had it pillowed on his arm. There's nothing amiss in his room, but something feels off. He sits up, and stares exasperated at the two small bookwyrms who look innocently back at him, strands of his long hair in their mouths.