10-28-2007, 09:24 AM
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Sprawled out on the floor of the library with books scattered around her, Corona was deeply engrossed in reading about things that she had little knowledge over. Though she had been trained in her time in France to be a skilled apothecary, knowing how to heal superficial wounds didn't interest her that much. Albeit, learning how to amputate things was a bit more than superficial, it wasn't anything like the inner workings of the mind. The books, though written for the human, could easily be decided upon for the Luperci as well; they had become more and more human like over the last couple of decades. Part of her was deeply interested in why an area with the right tools, goods, and so on, would not begin to rebuild like so many of the places around them and oceans away. Was it depression that held them back? Or mental disorders that crawled out of the woodwork?
Turning a page with a sigh, the oil lamp that she had ganked from a table still had a good wick in it. It still had oil in it, and through finding things to make fire with, she had gotten it lit. Not only was it a source of light in the dark, dank library, but also a form of heat. Just because she was more wolf than coyote didn't mean squat to her genes; Corona lacked for the most part, a decent grow-in winter coat. Canada, was unfortunately, not exactly a very warm place in late-October. Wundt, Pavlov, all of them were interesting men. Dead men, but they had interesting theories to go off of, nonetheless. Folding an arm underneath her as she read on by the flicker light, Corona was also listening for other things. Paranoia was her best friend in the dark, and her tail gave a interested flick to the quiet air. It was almost too quiet for her tastes.
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Turning a page with a sigh, the oil lamp that she had ganked from a table still had a good wick in it. It still had oil in it, and through finding things to make fire with, she had gotten it lit. Not only was it a source of light in the dark, dank library, but also a form of heat. Just because she was more wolf than coyote didn't mean squat to her genes; Corona lacked for the most part, a decent grow-in winter coat. Canada, was unfortunately, not exactly a very warm place in late-October. Wundt, Pavlov, all of them were interesting men. Dead men, but they had interesting theories to go off of, nonetheless. Folding an arm underneath her as she read on by the flicker light, Corona was also listening for other things. Paranoia was her best friend in the dark, and her tail gave a interested flick to the quiet air. It was almost too quiet for her tastes.