Despite the fact that he is being the bigger person in this situation and choosing to apologize for his actions, Sloane does nothing of the sort. The idea of admitting that she was wrong is likened to weakness and Sloane will never admit to anyone that she is weak. Even if she might not feel at all comfortable here in the library, she would not show him, or anyone for that matter, that she felt uneasy. She had to make it look like she sort of knew what she was doing. Was that what her tough exterior and demeanor was meant to do?
But she is silent, using her magic to continue to sift through the book in front of her as he begins to speak. Who does he think he is? He’s assuming that she plans to use the knowledge that she’s after for some sort of evil. Evil ritual, poison, unleash a powerful curse. None of that is really what she’s after. What she finds strange, however, is that for someone who insists on being welcoming and unjudgmental, he sure is judging her motives. "Why do you assume I want to use it for some evil purpose? What if I wanted to shit glitter?" Her eyes stare at him sternly, even though she’s cackling inwardly. She was not the type who liked glitter, let alone wanted to shit glitter. Glitter was the one thing in this world that she hated more than anything. It got everywhere and it was nearly impossible to remove.
However, the next words that come from between his annoying lips are one hundred percent true. She is determined. She is so damned determined that she has already vowed to not leave this library until she finds exactly what she’s looking for, even if it might kill her in the process. She would let it slide that he still thought she was out to perform some sort of evil act when in reality, she was looking for something a little more sinister.
However, no matter how sound his train of thought is, Sloane refuses to compliment him. She refuses to acknowledge that perhaps, a cookbook might be what she is looking for. But then again, considering she’s looking for something between a harmless potion and creating matter, perhaps she is giving him too much credit.
But at this point in the conversation, the mule is beginning to talk way too much. His voice is starting to annoy the shit out of her. Not to mention, it’s starting to sound like the teacher from Charlie Brown “wah wah wah wah waaaaahhhhh”. His syllables are slurring together in her mind and it is making her skin feel as though it’s crawling with lice or some other evil sort of bug. Maybe it’s crabs, that’s sure as hell annoying. In fact, Sloane was sure that there simply had to be steam coming from each ear as the temperature of her blood began to reach boiling mad.
But just when she was ready to gather up the old book and let him talk to the wind while she went somewhere where she could actually hear herself thing, his volume suddenly grew loud with excitement. The quick snap of his ear to attention caught her attention and made her visibly jump. Head shot up as ears lay flat against her skull. What the fuck was this guy doing?
He was talking about some foxes, probably the same foxes that she had seen scurrying through the isles of the library. If there were anything like the fucking squirrels that lived on the island next to her own, she didn’t want anything to do with them. In fact, she had no intention of telling them what she was looking for.
When she looks over at him, she can only see that goofy, cheeky grin as he tells her that the foxes are very helpful and that his name is Willfur. Willfur. That’s a name she needs to put to a face so she knows not to bother him ever again. Already she’s lost a few IQ points while she’s been standing here. "Sloane." She supposed at the minimum, she could tell him exactly who he was talking to so maybe, like herself, he might steer clear of her. "Do you ever shut up?" As plainly obvious as it is, Sloane is not much of a talker in comparison to the mule before her. She only speaks when she has to and even that is not often enough.
Good god she had a splitting headache.
@Willfur
