@hey-ms-monet Like a cat Abigail was drawn to warmth, to comfort. Her wardrobe consisted of sweaters, jackets, long sleeves, the like. The library in town was warm, and if she came early in the morning she would find herself sometimes nodding off. It was cozy, and had all kinds of interesting books. She found an easy kind of escape in learning, that counted for school as well. But nothing compared to the softness of a quiet library. She's wrapped up in her thoughts, browsing through an aisle she frequents. She's read a couple of these books two or three times, but she never really gets tired of them. She reaches for one that looks like it's been recently added to the collection, her curiosity piqued. Abigail jumps when her hand bumps against someone else's, her attention expanding outside of her own bubble to see another woman standing next to her. She kind of recognizes her, she'd seen her around here too. A bookworm like her. "Oh -- I'm sorry," she quickly apologizes, pulling away. "You can have it, I don't mind. I'll just check it out when you're done."