The surest sign of strength
that I have ever seen
is gentleness
Though the Library sees a fair amount of traffic each day, it's a rare individual that does more than quietly, almost reverently, pace the aisles, gently plucking volumes from the shelves and slipping off to a private room or cushioned alcove to read beneath windows, lamps, and - sometimes - magical sources of light. These, the mule is always interested in, pricking his satellite ears and peering around corners to surreptitiously watch the strangers cast and work their wordless spells. He's not sure 'spell,' is the right terminology or way of thinking about Novus magic, but his experience with such things is, admittedly, limited.that I have ever seen
is gentleness
It's noticeable then, when the darkly mottled mare comes stomping, huffing, and slamming her way into the archival section of the reference wing, dust and the most skittish of fox-like helpers fluttering in agitation everywhere she goes. One long ear trained across the rows, fixed on the mares path of disruption, Willfur reaches down to gently stroke the helpers as they flee past him, but only adds to their upset when he jumps at the sound of a loud, throat wrenching sneeze. He's never felt himself of any authority to be blessing someone, and so stays silent. Wordless, angry protests soon follow, toward the sneeze, toward some lack of result, or maybe an unwanted result found in the pages of the book she's chosen, he doesn't know. It's not until the mare starts shouting that Willfur is finally compelled to step forward.
"Hello! Is there anything I can help you with?" He tries to put on his best Greeter™ smile, despite noticing that the book she's just been handling so roughly is an old one, loosely bound and now additionally marked with a crescent moon of tooth impressions, front and back.
