The surest sign of strength
that I have ever seen
is gentleness
This time he accepts the mare's scolding - he probably deserves it, anyway - letting her anger roll over and around him like a sudden squall, metaphorically hunching his shoulders and turning his rump to the wind. It's just something to be expected. He should have known the mare wouldn't appreciate or engage in his game, that she's too tightly strung, too exasperated with the task at hand, the library, him, life in general, existance itself maybe, to converse in anything but angry, biting remarks. It was foolish of him to let himself be offended in the first place - and over something so trivial - and counterproductive to making friends or gaining any sort of trust. Forfeiting his earlier attitude, he recants, bowing his head slightly. "Okay, I'm sorry. That wasn't necessary of me."that I have ever seen
is gentleness
He doesn't expect much of a reply, let alone a statement of forgiveness, so he carries on. "I don't mean to make your day more difficult and I know you won't believe this, but it's no place of mine to judge someone's motivation. I don't care if you're trying to assemble a curse or brew a poison or summon some primordial evil. I probably couldn't stop you if you were, and you're not stupid, so you'll just find the information one way or another." Now he looks up, meeting the mare eye to eye, two perfect opposites, his own warm and unassuming where hers are cold, unrelenting. He wonders if she always looks that way, or if it's only because he's irked her.
"You look pretty determined to me, so, if you won't be more specific, I'll just tell you what I do know. I've never tried to curse anyone, so I can't help you there, but poisons you might have better luck with in the culinary section. Cooks and bakers were the most likely assassins back in the day, as they had the easiest means to do it and the most readily used excuses for 'mistakes.' If it's something more alchemical than that, you'll probably have to dig through what little documentation there is for the specific type of magic you want to use. Unfortunately 'magic' is an enormous subject and it doesn't appear that anyone has tried to separate and compile a dedicated section for it yet." Which is odd, considering just how much magic there is in Novus. Maybe he should bring the idea up to the scholars once the weather turns. It could make for a worthwhile project over the colder months, when the library and its hearths are more populated than ever.
"I've been trying to find and organize some materials on that front myself, mainly to do with natural magics and how to wield them, but it's all jumbled among the other subjects in offhanded entries and unexpanded snippets of observation. You could just as easily find the notion you're looking for in the diary of a sixteenth century schoolgirl as in a dedicated work." He sighs, already bracing himself for the annoyance that's likely to follow. "So far all I've found are a handful of unpleasant, firsthand accounts of magic being used in battle. Spearing the earth up from below an opposing army, sucking the air from their lungs, that sort of thing." He shakes his head.
"I wish I could be more help-" Ears slamming forward, his eyes suddenly widen with the shock of an idea. "Oh! Maybe the foxes could help you! You could whisper what you're looking for to them. I've never heard them speak, and I spend a fair amount of time here, so your secret would still be safe." Finally feeling like he's given her something to go on, he smiles. "They're very helpful. I'm Willfur, by the way."
