At a nearby table, Araceli has several maps spread out and weighted down to stop them curling up on themselves or rolling down onto the floor as she reads from various accounts of voyages that aren't the usual dull and dry affairs. Few though they may be. All very dull to the fox flopped at her feet watching Waver's bits of parchment with great interest as he inches away from his mistress, low to the floor.

Lux goes still. Pricks his ears forward. Wiggles. Then pounces at the table.

"Ladrón!" Lunging out of her chair, she makes a grab for the fox because she knows his track record when it comes to him staying with her when she works up here. All his bad habits, after all, are learned from her. "Forgive him, he has the manners of a crab three days baked in the hot sun."