The rain tapped a steady, comforting rhythm against the tall windows of the library, a sound Kathleen had loved since she was a little girl hiding in these very stacks. At thirty-two, not much had changed, except now she had the keys to the front door and a name tag pinned to her oversized, oatmeal-colored cardigan that read Assistant Librarian.
She adjusted her large tortoiseshell glasses, pushing them up the bridge of her nose as she balanced a stack of returned hardcovers against her hip. It was a slow day, which usually gave her time to daydream about the plot of her latest romance manuscript, but today, something else caught her attention.
Turning the corner into the fiction aisle, she spotted you standing near the end of the row. You looked a bit out of place—perhaps a little lost or lonely—which immediately tugged at her heartstrings. In true Kathleen fashion, she couldn't just walk by.
She approached slowly, offering a shy, warm smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes.
"Hi there," she said softly, her voice gentle so as not to disturb the quiet. "You look like you might be searching for something specific... or maybe just looking for a place to escape for a while? I'd be happy to help you find a good story if you need a recommendation."
She adjusted her large tortoiseshell glasses, pushing them up the bridge of her nose as she balanced a stack of returned hardcovers against her hip. It was a slow day, which usually gave her time to daydream about the plot of her latest romance manuscript, but today, something else caught her attention.
Turning the corner into the fiction aisle, she spotted you standing near the end of the row. You looked a bit out of place—perhaps a little lost or lonely—which immediately tugged at her heartstrings. In true Kathleen fashion, she couldn't just walk by.
She approached slowly, offering a shy, warm smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes.
"Hi there," she said softly, her voice gentle so as not to disturb the quiet. "You look like you might be searching for something specific... or maybe just looking for a place to escape for a while? I'd be happy to help you find a good story if you need a recommendation."
Rainy day, not the best moment to go for herbs into the woods, it's always uncomfortable having a wet fur.
So what else could a doe like Lizbeth do on such a day. The deer doesn't work, if it is to gather plants for the local herbalist. That little 'job' allowed Lizbeth to have some coins if she needs something, like those linen clothes she wears when in public.
But then something comes up in the deer's mind, she always wanted to start learning to read. In all her life she weren't taught nor did she have the courage to attend classes. But it can't be that difficult! All the time she sees those letters, she sees words formed, but yet she didn't have the key to open the secret book of reading.
Maybe at the library, yes, for sure there are a lot of books, one of them should be good for this doe to learn. So Lizbeth makes herself ready for the library and leaves her lonesome hut for the rush of town. People know already that anthropomorphic doe, she's no more curiosity. Still her history hangs on her like a prisoner's ball, like a burden. But the whispers have almost disappeared, this doe can move freely through the streets of this small town. So she finally ends up at the large glass doors of the town library. After a short hesitation, she will be in a closed room with unknown people, something that makes this doe nervous, and this is visible in her demeanor.
Yet she does it, and respectfully enters the line of waiting people. As she's slightly taller than average human, her head with those big ears stands out, undeniable.
From aside approaches slowly that woman in her oatmeal-colored cardigan, shy and gentle. Lizbeth looks at her and her heart starts to race, yes that woman closed in on her, the door is behind her, it's still time to flee. But Lizbeth stays, trying to hide so she might not talk to her.
But no, Kathleen came for her and even talks to her, proposing aid. Lizbeth's heart is about to explode, she trembles.
"Hello...." first mumbled word, "I... I came here for a special book." her voice is low, she understands that a library is a place of peace and quietness. "I don't know if it exists...", Lizbeth hesitates a lot, embarrassed, she's going to ask for a book, but she can't read.
Alonger moment of silence and the doe turns towards Kathleen, whispering "I'm looking for.... a book.... that can teach me to read." Her head lowers as if ashamed, embarrassed, the doe feels stupid "I can't read" she eventually admits.
So what else could a doe like Lizbeth do on such a day. The deer doesn't work, if it is to gather plants for the local herbalist. That little 'job' allowed Lizbeth to have some coins if she needs something, like those linen clothes she wears when in public.
But then something comes up in the deer's mind, she always wanted to start learning to read. In all her life she weren't taught nor did she have the courage to attend classes. But it can't be that difficult! All the time she sees those letters, she sees words formed, but yet she didn't have the key to open the secret book of reading.
Maybe at the library, yes, for sure there are a lot of books, one of them should be good for this doe to learn. So Lizbeth makes herself ready for the library and leaves her lonesome hut for the rush of town. People know already that anthropomorphic doe, she's no more curiosity. Still her history hangs on her like a prisoner's ball, like a burden. But the whispers have almost disappeared, this doe can move freely through the streets of this small town. So she finally ends up at the large glass doors of the town library. After a short hesitation, she will be in a closed room with unknown people, something that makes this doe nervous, and this is visible in her demeanor.
Yet she does it, and respectfully enters the line of waiting people. As she's slightly taller than average human, her head with those big ears stands out, undeniable.
From aside approaches slowly that woman in her oatmeal-colored cardigan, shy and gentle. Lizbeth looks at her and her heart starts to race, yes that woman closed in on her, the door is behind her, it's still time to flee. But Lizbeth stays, trying to hide so she might not talk to her.
But no, Kathleen came for her and even talks to her, proposing aid. Lizbeth's heart is about to explode, she trembles.
"Hello...." first mumbled word, "I... I came here for a special book." her voice is low, she understands that a library is a place of peace and quietness. "I don't know if it exists...", Lizbeth hesitates a lot, embarrassed, she's going to ask for a book, but she can't read.
Alonger moment of silence and the doe turns towards Kathleen, whispering "I'm looking for.... a book.... that can teach me to read." Her head lowers as if ashamed, embarrassed, the doe feels stupid "I can't read" she eventually admits.
Kathleen didn't blink, nor did her warm expression falter for even a second. If anything, her smile softened, transforming from a polite greeting into something deeply compassionate and reassuring. She could see the trembling in the tall doe’s frame, the way her ears dipped with anxiety, and the palpable shame radiating from her lowered head.
Kathleen knew what it felt like to want to disappear in a room full of people. She instinctively shifted her stance, angling her body to shield Lizbeth slightly from the view of the line behind them, creating a small, private bubble of safety between the stacks.
"Oh, please don't look down," Kathleen whispered, her voice barely above a breath but thick with sincerity. She carefully set the stack of hardcovers she was holding onto a nearby cart so she could give Lizbeth her full attention. "You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Do you know how brave you are for walking through those doors and asking for help? That is the hardest part, and you've already done it."
She took a small, gentle step closer, keeping her hands clasped in front of her oatmeal cardigan to show she was harmless.
"I’m Kathleen," she said softly. "And I would be honored to help you. We have some wonderful resources for beginners—books that aren't for children, but for adults who are just starting their journey. They are very private and very easy to follow."
She glanced toward a cozy, secluded corner of the library, far away from the front desk and the prying eyes of the other patrons.
"How about we go sit over there in the back quiet section?" she suggested, her tone conspiring and friendly, like two friends sharing a secret rather than a librarian instructing a patron. "I can bring a few options to you, so you don't have to search the shelves yourself. Would that be okay?"
Kathleen knew what it felt like to want to disappear in a room full of people. She instinctively shifted her stance, angling her body to shield Lizbeth slightly from the view of the line behind them, creating a small, private bubble of safety between the stacks.
"Oh, please don't look down," Kathleen whispered, her voice barely above a breath but thick with sincerity. She carefully set the stack of hardcovers she was holding onto a nearby cart so she could give Lizbeth her full attention. "You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Do you know how brave you are for walking through those doors and asking for help? That is the hardest part, and you've already done it."
She took a small, gentle step closer, keeping her hands clasped in front of her oatmeal cardigan to show she was harmless.
"I’m Kathleen," she said softly. "And I would be honored to help you. We have some wonderful resources for beginners—books that aren't for children, but for adults who are just starting their journey. They are very private and very easy to follow."
She glanced toward a cozy, secluded corner of the library, far away from the front desk and the prying eyes of the other patrons.
"How about we go sit over there in the back quiet section?" she suggested, her tone conspiring and friendly, like two friends sharing a secret rather than a librarian instructing a patron. "I can bring a few options to you, so you don't have to search the shelves yourself. Would that be okay?"
Lizbeth turns towards the woman, and looks back up at her, her big deer eyes slightly shimmering. Few were ever so gentle to her, her moves, more protecting than engaging, the doe feels as if she were shielded, only her Mom ever did this.
Kathleen was right, it took a lot of determination for that doe to enter this building, to be under strangers and to admit the lack of normal education. Lizbeth wasn’t dumb, just no one ever gave her the right to apprehend reading. And in fact the doe never needed to read, leaves are green and of all forms and sizes, none has a letter on it.
Lizbeth instantly feels the goodwill emanating from this woman, from Kathleen, that tenderness she brings to explain things, that absolute will to help. Lizbeth never thought such human exists and yet, almost at reach, there’s Kathleen, seemingly a pure soul.
She accepts to find a more secluded place, a cozy place in the wilderness of town, just like Lizbeth’s little hut, a refuge.
“That would be more than welcomed, I’m very grateful if you could help me out, I.. I am a bit confused, I thought it would be easier for me, but I’m still too wary, too much afraid.”
Kathleen could not in any way know about Lizbeth’s past, but for sure one, at least one person in the waiting line would for sure know a lie from the doe’s history.
Lizbeth gratefully chooses a place on a bench, it feels comfortable, soft tissue covering a cushion of an enjoyable wooden piece of furniture, the bench has two places. The desk, smoothly lacquered wood with a leather desk blotter and a golden brass standing table lamp that finishes the little scenery Lizbeth chooses to settle herself. She doesn’t even pay attention anymore at some pairs of eyes glancing at her.
Lizbeth nods with a soft smile to Kathleen, she didn’t even introduce herself, but she knew already the name of Kathleen, Lizbeth where are your manners…
The doe patiently waits Kathleen to return with her suggestions.
Kathleen was right, it took a lot of determination for that doe to enter this building, to be under strangers and to admit the lack of normal education. Lizbeth wasn’t dumb, just no one ever gave her the right to apprehend reading. And in fact the doe never needed to read, leaves are green and of all forms and sizes, none has a letter on it.
Lizbeth instantly feels the goodwill emanating from this woman, from Kathleen, that tenderness she brings to explain things, that absolute will to help. Lizbeth never thought such human exists and yet, almost at reach, there’s Kathleen, seemingly a pure soul.
She accepts to find a more secluded place, a cozy place in the wilderness of town, just like Lizbeth’s little hut, a refuge.
“That would be more than welcomed, I’m very grateful if you could help me out, I.. I am a bit confused, I thought it would be easier for me, but I’m still too wary, too much afraid.”
Kathleen could not in any way know about Lizbeth’s past, but for sure one, at least one person in the waiting line would for sure know a lie from the doe’s history.
Lizbeth gratefully chooses a place on a bench, it feels comfortable, soft tissue covering a cushion of an enjoyable wooden piece of furniture, the bench has two places. The desk, smoothly lacquered wood with a leather desk blotter and a golden brass standing table lamp that finishes the little scenery Lizbeth chooses to settle herself. She doesn’t even pay attention anymore at some pairs of eyes glancing at her.
Lizbeth nods with a soft smile to Kathleen, she didn’t even introduce herself, but she knew already the name of Kathleen, Lizbeth where are your manners…
The doe patiently waits Kathleen to return with her suggestions.
Kathleen returned a few moments later, walking softly on the carpeted floor so as not to startle the doe. She carried three slender volumes against her chest, holding them tight like precious cargo.
When she reached the secluded desk, she didn't loom over Lizbeth. Instead, she pulled a rolling stool from a nearby stack and sat down on the other side of the small table, lowering herself so she wasn't looking down at the doe. She placed the books on the leather blotter with deliberate care.
"I picked these specifically for you," Kathleen said, her voice dropping to that conspiracy-whisper again, warm and inviting. She tapped the cover of the top book. It was a slate-blue hardcover with no text on the front, just a simple, elegant embossing of a tree.
"The best thing about these," she explained, pushing her glasses up her nose with a shy smile, "is that on the outside, they look just like the poetry books or journals everyone else reads. No one walking by will know you're learning. It can be our secret."
She opened the first book to a page with large, clear font and beautiful, hand-drawn illustrations of plants and animals—something she hoped would feel familiar to someone who spent her time in the woods.
"This one connects pictures to words. Since you already know the forest, I thought starting with words like 'fern' or 'stream' might feel less scary than jumping straight into sentences."
She looked up at Lizbeth, her expression open and eager to see if she had done well.
"I realized I was so excited to help that I was a bit rude," Kathleen added with a self-deprecating little laugh, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "I'm Kathleen, as I mentioned. May I ask your name?"
When she reached the secluded desk, she didn't loom over Lizbeth. Instead, she pulled a rolling stool from a nearby stack and sat down on the other side of the small table, lowering herself so she wasn't looking down at the doe. She placed the books on the leather blotter with deliberate care.
"I picked these specifically for you," Kathleen said, her voice dropping to that conspiracy-whisper again, warm and inviting. She tapped the cover of the top book. It was a slate-blue hardcover with no text on the front, just a simple, elegant embossing of a tree.
"The best thing about these," she explained, pushing her glasses up her nose with a shy smile, "is that on the outside, they look just like the poetry books or journals everyone else reads. No one walking by will know you're learning. It can be our secret."
She opened the first book to a page with large, clear font and beautiful, hand-drawn illustrations of plants and animals—something she hoped would feel familiar to someone who spent her time in the woods.
"This one connects pictures to words. Since you already know the forest, I thought starting with words like 'fern' or 'stream' might feel less scary than jumping straight into sentences."
She looked up at Lizbeth, her expression open and eager to see if she had done well.
"I realized I was so excited to help that I was a bit rude," Kathleen added with a self-deprecating little laugh, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "I'm Kathleen, as I mentioned. May I ask your name?"
Lizbeth observes the library during the few minutes Kathleen had gone, she can see people asking for books, others come in with a big smile and bring lended books back, others have like a droopy look when they receive some tomes. 'Do I really have to read all that?' is written on their face. Some seem to study heavily having already three books own their desk and yet getting up to search another one. There's even a man, gnawing on his pencil while walking and reading a book, he almost bumps into a library clerk. All this makes the doe slightly smile, will she one day be like that? At least it gives her more courage to be able one day to do so.
Kathleen comes back and presents some books, the first is already very interesting, Lizbeth's face lightens up, a sincere smile over her face. Would she ever have known that books about the forest exist, she would have done this earlier.
"That is amazing, you mean all this book is made of pictures of my forest and the names of all written down? But... but the knowledge of the woods is spoken legacy, Angel told everything I have to know, all other things I learned with help of others.", she lays a hand on her chest, leans back somewhat and continues to speak softly, just loud enough that Kathleen can hear her, "The forest is inside me, brought to me by thousands of years old legacy and instinctive heritage. I didn't know that this was written down." Lizbeth always thought books were stories, some boring, some captivating, but invented and made for pleasure, knowledge is inherited. But she was wrong, wrong about books, wrong about humans. The deer has to rethink her perception of human kind.
"Oh please excuse me Kathleen, I was rude and didn't tell you my name. I'm Lizbeth, Lizbeth Redwood, born from Angel and Maxwell...", Lizbeth holds back, Kathleen doesn't want to know, in the wild this counts, not in this world.
But Lizbeth's interest returns quickly towards that one first book. With a smile she takes that one gently in front of her, softly her hand goes over the embossed tree on cover, feeling the different textures, feeling even a kind of soul in that book. "So many hands passed already over this cover, young hands old hands, one can almost feel them... " Lizbeth is amazed about the first book she really holds in her hands, a book for her, not just a heap of words that she has to bring to a client, not just a thing that would slap her rear.
"Thank you Kathleen, I will make efforts to be able to read this one.", her fingers stray over the pages, some images giving birth to a grin, some other just making her shiver once.
"It is very kind of you to keep discretion, there are so much rumors about me, some are true, some are lies, if I can read, I can show them all that I'm not dumb."
Kathleen comes back and presents some books, the first is already very interesting, Lizbeth's face lightens up, a sincere smile over her face. Would she ever have known that books about the forest exist, she would have done this earlier.
"That is amazing, you mean all this book is made of pictures of my forest and the names of all written down? But... but the knowledge of the woods is spoken legacy, Angel told everything I have to know, all other things I learned with help of others.", she lays a hand on her chest, leans back somewhat and continues to speak softly, just loud enough that Kathleen can hear her, "The forest is inside me, brought to me by thousands of years old legacy and instinctive heritage. I didn't know that this was written down." Lizbeth always thought books were stories, some boring, some captivating, but invented and made for pleasure, knowledge is inherited. But she was wrong, wrong about books, wrong about humans. The deer has to rethink her perception of human kind.
"Oh please excuse me Kathleen, I was rude and didn't tell you my name. I'm Lizbeth, Lizbeth Redwood, born from Angel and Maxwell...", Lizbeth holds back, Kathleen doesn't want to know, in the wild this counts, not in this world.
But Lizbeth's interest returns quickly towards that one first book. With a smile she takes that one gently in front of her, softly her hand goes over the embossed tree on cover, feeling the different textures, feeling even a kind of soul in that book. "So many hands passed already over this cover, young hands old hands, one can almost feel them... " Lizbeth is amazed about the first book she really holds in her hands, a book for her, not just a heap of words that she has to bring to a client, not just a thing that would slap her rear.
"Thank you Kathleen, I will make efforts to be able to read this one.", her fingers stray over the pages, some images giving birth to a grin, some other just making her shiver once.
"It is very kind of you to keep discretion, there are so much rumors about me, some are true, some are lies, if I can read, I can show them all that I'm not dumb."
Kathleen listened intently, her expression softening into a look of genuine fascination as Lizbeth spoke of the forest as a legacy carried in the blood rather than ink on a page. To a writer and a librarian, the idea that a story could live inside someone’s DNA was incredibly poetic.
When Lizbeth cut herself off during the introduction, Kathleen didn't press or look confused. She simply nodded respectfully, treating the introduction with the gravity Lizbeth clearly felt it deserved.
"It is wonderful to meet you, Lizbeth," Kathleen said, her voice warm and grounding. "And please, never think that because you haven't learned this specific skill yet, that you lack intelligence. You just said it yourself—you carry thousands of years of knowledge inside you. That is something a book can only try to imitate."
She leaned in slightly, resting her elbows on the edge of the desk, looking at the doe with intense sincerity behind her glasses.
"Reading is just a code," she explained gently. "It’s just a way humans invented to freeze thoughts in time. Not knowing the code doesn't mean the thoughts aren't there. You are smart, Lizbeth. You’re just learning a new tool."
She watched Lizbeth’s hand trace the embossed tree on the cover, smiling at the reverence the doe showed the object.
"You're right about the hands," Kathleen added softly. "Books have their own memories. And now, this one gets to be part of your story."
She reached out and gently tapped the open page, pointing to a detailed illustration of a large, sturdy oak tree. Beneath it, in large, friendly serif font, was the word OAK.
"Let's test that forest legacy," she suggested playfully, trying to lighten the mood. "Do you recognize this tree from the picture?"
When Lizbeth cut herself off during the introduction, Kathleen didn't press or look confused. She simply nodded respectfully, treating the introduction with the gravity Lizbeth clearly felt it deserved.
"It is wonderful to meet you, Lizbeth," Kathleen said, her voice warm and grounding. "And please, never think that because you haven't learned this specific skill yet, that you lack intelligence. You just said it yourself—you carry thousands of years of knowledge inside you. That is something a book can only try to imitate."
She leaned in slightly, resting her elbows on the edge of the desk, looking at the doe with intense sincerity behind her glasses.
"Reading is just a code," she explained gently. "It’s just a way humans invented to freeze thoughts in time. Not knowing the code doesn't mean the thoughts aren't there. You are smart, Lizbeth. You’re just learning a new tool."
She watched Lizbeth’s hand trace the embossed tree on the cover, smiling at the reverence the doe showed the object.
"You're right about the hands," Kathleen added softly. "Books have their own memories. And now, this one gets to be part of your story."
She reached out and gently tapped the open page, pointing to a detailed illustration of a large, sturdy oak tree. Beneath it, in large, friendly serif font, was the word OAK.
"Let's test that forest legacy," she suggested playfully, trying to lighten the mood. "Do you recognize this tree from the picture?"
You are on: Forums » General Roleplay » The Library (1x1)