It's deep in the stacks she'll find him, set up at a little table and poring over a richly-illustrated volume. Elabourate woodcuts, their details hand-coloured, sprawl across blocks of tight, rigidly-organized text. Someone’s put a great deal of care into the work — nothing of the sort can be said for the young man paging through them. Alan’s not someone in the habit of making himself presentable.
His expression is no more animated than his voice, but he lifts it to each passerby in turn, assessing: Is that her? Or this one? That small, hairy dwarven man, perhaps?
His chin tips quizzically, eyes fall upon her at last.
PETRA | Closed.
It's deep in the stacks she'll find him, set up at a little table and poring over a richly-illustrated volume. Elabourate woodcuts, their details hand-coloured, sprawl across blocks of tight, rigidly-organized text. Someone’s put a great deal of care into the work — nothing of the sort can be said for the young man paging through them. Alan’s not someone in the habit of making himself presentable.
His expression is no more animated than his voice, but he lifts it to each passerby in turn, assessing: Is that her? Or this one? That small, hairy dwarven man, perhaps?
His chin tips quizzically, eyes fall upon her at last.
"Hello," A cautious offering.